


steal my heart tonight

by ThankYouMerlin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThankYouMerlin/pseuds/ThankYouMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall rips off his ski mask, it was cliche and stupid (and totally Harry’s idea) anyway. “This is <i>my</i> mission.” </p>
<p>“We know,” Liam says, pulling his own mask off. Niall thinks they’re all wrapped a bit too much around Harry’s finger, maybe. “We just like watching you work.” </p>
<p>or, </p>
<p>An OT5 international thieves AU that contains very little actual stealing because I have no idea how to break into vaults in real life and lots of friendship and feelings from five boys in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	steal my heart tonight

**Author's Note:**

> well here it is. a fic started back in august right after kelly and i saw one direction in concert where they played that dumb perfume commercial six hundred times. thank you to kelly and nicole for sitting with me in the fic doc for hours. i can't believe i named my fic a lyric from "stole my heart" i am a cliche. 
> 
>  
> 
> [art by the beautiful and wonderful redscarfe, who i adore completely. ](https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/10334419_10153484703648029_3431205270816370711_n.jpg?oh=4adf54d94f3f1e94cc19f1dda26ea801&oe=55903D81&__gda__=1430822116_8454ee63573b31d710a7ac8e33b74122)

Niall hasn't touched his champagne. It's sweating in his hand and every so often he touches the rim of the glass to his lips to give the illusion that he's drinking from it, but he isn't. This is his first job (well, first _real_ job, where's he's getting paid in more than just peanut M &M's and Sean's praise) and he doesn't want to risk screwing it up because the champagne made his head too bubbly. He could go for a pint right about now. Fecking rich people thinking they're too fancy for a good old fashioned brew. 

"You're the new guy then?" A voice says in Niall's ear. Niall whips around to look at the guy who has nearly plastered himself to Niall's back in order to whisper in his ear. The guy is tall, his hair long and curling where it's pushed back behind his ears. Niall thinks he looks a bit silly, honestly, but the dumb hair does nothing to make the guy look any less fit in his navy blue suit. 

"Do I know you?" Niall asks, careful to keep his voice amused instead of accusatory. 

The guy smirks. "No, but I know you. Or, I know _of_ you. We were told to keep our eyes peeled for the new competition." 

"I think you've got me confused with someone else. Maybe lay off the drink, mate." 

The guy's face twists up like Niall's just offended him and he scoffs loudly. He leans in close, lips brushing Niall's ear when he murmurs, "I would say the same to you, but you haven't taken a sip of your drink all night. Give my regards to Flora would you? Tell her I miss her terribly." 

The guy goes to pull away, but Niall grabs his wrist and keeps him close. He deposits his champagne on a table behind him and reaches for his knife, concealed in the waistband of his specially made trousers. "I don't know what you're talking about, mate." 

"Be careful with that thing," the guy says. He tips his head at Niall's knife, where it's just starting to glint as Niall slides it out a bit. "The James Bond looking man across the room? He's rather fond of me and doesn't react well to people trying to hurt me, so I'd just put the knife away and I'll let you get back to pretending to sip your drink." 

"Who are you?" Niall demands. He glances over at the man watching them both carefully from across the room. He has one hand resting casually on his hip but Niall has no doubt that his fingers are curling just the slightest bit around whatever weapon he has on him. Niall slides his knife back into its concealed pocket. He didn't come here to pick a fight with Geoffrey the Giraffe and Denis the Menace. He has a job to do and money to collect. 

The guy still in Niall's grip throws his head back and laughs and Niall forces a smile to his face, just in case they've caught the attention of anyone else in the room. 

"I guess that's up to you," the guy says when he's through laughing, "but I have a feeling that we'll end up friends. I like you already." 

"Not so sure I feel the same," Niall says. 

The guy laughs again before slipping his wrist out of the grip that Niall's let go lax. He presses his lips to Niall's ear once more, whispering, "She keeps the really expensive stuff in the new vault on the third floor. The basement vault is mostly for show, a decoy. You'll want to go up." 

"Still don't know what you're talking about." Niall tries one last time to pretend that he isn't there to do exactly what this guy thinks he's going to do. He is, but he isn't about to disclose that information to a totally stranger. 

"Sure you don't," the guy says easily enough, stepping back. He turns and winks at his companion, whose hand drops from his waist easily. Niall was right about the weapon then. "I'll be seeing you." 

Niall offers him a glare in return, which the guy smiles at sunnily before moving away from Niall completely, nearly crashing into a waiter before he gets back to his companion's side. This is officially the weirdest mission of Niall's life and it's only his first one.

\----

A few hours later, Niall is in the car that Flora sent to retrieve him, the secret pockets lining the interior of his jacket stuffed to the brim with jewels. As weird as that guy earlier had been, he'd also been right. The rare jewels -- the ones Niall had been after -- weren't kept in the basement like he'd originally assumed after looking over the floorplan of the house. Turns out Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway had had a new fault built three weeks ago after getting a tip that someone was planning on robbing them. Niall isn't sure who tipped them off -- doesn't care, to be honest, as long as they kept his name out of it, but he's sure they won't be happy to find out that their new vault was just as useless as the old one would have been.

Which lead Niall to wonder how that guy at the party had known that. He appeared to know Flora, which _might_ explain how he knew what Niall was really there to do, but how he knew about the vault was an entirely different question. There's a part of him that's tempted to have the car turn around so he can go back into the party and interrogate the guy, but he recognizes how absolutely stupid that would be and stays silent in the backseat. 

They pull up outside Flora's house just a bit after midnight. The high of a job well done that Niall's had since slipping out of the Hathaway house two hours earlier has started to fade and all Niall can think about now is getting his money and then getting the fuck into his bed. 

Flora's waiting for him in the study, as she always is. She's in her dressing gown, sides flapping open to reveal a light blue nightgown underneath. Her long black hair is pulled up on top of her head. There's a very attractive woman lounging in the armchair beside her desk, clad only in a small black negligee. 

"I interrupted," Niall says in lieu of a greeting. 

Flora waves his words away. "I was expecting you. Don't mind Kara, we were just training." Niall raises his eyebrows and Flora laughs, adding, "Didn't say what she was training for." 

By the time Niall finishes rolling his eyes, Flora's holding her hand out. Niall had transferred the jewels from his jacket to small velvet bags, easily separable if the car got ambushed. 

She opens the first one, pouring the necklace out into her palm. It's encrusted with sapphires, glowing under the warm light of the study. "Very good, Mr. Horan. Very good indeed." 

"Something a bit weird did happen," Niall tells her as she puts all of the bags into a desk drawer, which she then locks. She hangs the key around her neck, where it always lies so that no one can get to it. She opens the next drawer down and takes out an envelope. 

"And what was that?" She doesn't hand him the money and Niall knows that she won't until he tells her what happened; knows he won't get paid if she thinks he's compromised her in any way. 

"There was this bloke at the party," Niall says. "Told me to send you his best." 

Flora's voice is sharp when she demands to know what he looked like. 

"He was tall. Curly hair, green eyes," Niall tells her, watching her visibly relax as he talks. "Very fit, very posh, very slow talker. Not sure he actually knows what personal space is." 

Flora laughs at that, shaking her head. "That's Harry Styles, an old employee of mine. The old you, actually." 

"What happened?" Niall asks. 

"His interests changed. He's not into stealing material goods so much anymore, prefers government secrets that he can trade. I've heard he's very big in the blackmail market. He must be wooing one of the Hathaways." 

"Both," Kara chimes in. "From what I've heard, anyways." 

That makes Flora laugh again. "Of course he is. Did he have anyone with him?" 

It takes Niall a second to realize that Flora's question is for him. "Yeah, actually. Big looking bloke. Was almost as tall as Harry, but was much broader. Harry said something about him being very protective?" 

Flora nods along, moving to sit in Kara's lap. "I could never tell if his devotion to the people he loved made him stronger or weaker. Caring leaves one so vulnerable, yet Liam usually performs better when someone he cares for is involved." 

"You know him as well then?" Niall asks. 

"Yes, though not as well as Harry. I didn't train Liam, I've only heard of him. He isn't so much into jewels so I've never had cause to reach out to him. He's more of an armored truck kind of guy, likes to put those muscles of his to good use ripping open doors and throwing the guards out of the cab." 

"What is he like, Harry's bodyguard?"

Kara snorts. "More like his boyfriend." 

Flora puts her hand over Kara's mouth and makes a shushing noise at her. "Don't gossip, darling, it's unbecoming. Speaking of becoming..." She gives Niall a pointed glance, holding out the envelope with his money in it. 

He takes the envelope and starts to back out of the room. "I'm going, I'm going." 

She grins at him before pulling Kara's lips to her neck, moaning loudly even as Niall shuts the door. 

The driver had waited for him (under Flora's orders no doubt) and Niall slides into the car, more than ready to go to sleep. 

They're half an hour into the hour drive to Niall's flat just outside of London when his mobile vibrates on the seat next to him. Not many people have this number (Flora being the only one, actually) so when the screen reports a message from a blocked number, Niall immediately tenses. 

He thumbs open the message, looking around even though he knows it's only himself and the driver in the car and it's one of Flora's drivers so Niall knows he can be trusted. There's nothing suspicious in the car and there's nothing in the dark outside to suggest that there is someone following them or anything, but Niall can't will himself to relax. 

[from.Blocked] 1:04  
> Oh dear, now you've done it. Louis is not very happy with you.

Niall furrows his brows at the message for a second. Maybe it's just some dumbass kid who typed in the wrong number for his friend or something. 

[from.Blocked] 1:05  
> I don't have the wrong number, in case you were wondering dear Niall

He drops the phone in surprise, though he'll deny should anyone (Flora) ever ask (she's creepy like that). He wipes his hands -- which are sweating like he's on a job -- on his expensive suit pants and picks the phone back up. 

[from.Niall] 1:07  
> who the fuck is louis  
> and who the fuck is this?

[from.Blocked] 1:08  
> You wound me Niall. We spent quite the evening together and then you just ran off. Do I mean nothing to you? Are jewels worth more to you than everything we shared?

Something clicks in Niall's head and Niall wonders if Flora knew all along that Harry Styles would be at that party. 

[from.Niall] 1:09  
> harry styles, i assume.

[from.Blocked] 1:09  
> You're correct, but you should never assume. Don't you know what they say?

[from.Niall] 1:10  
> don't YOU know what they say about getting a bloke's number without him giving it to you ?

[from.Blocked] 1:11  
No. What do they say?

[from.Niall] 1:11  
> don't do it you fucking creep

Harry takes a while to answer. So long, in fact, that Niall assumes he's given up trying to harass him via text message. Of course, that's exactly when his phone goes off again. 

[from.Blocked] 1:19  
> You're funny. I like you.

[from.Niall] 1:20  
> you said that earlier

[from.Blocked] 1:20  
> Well it's still true so I don't feel bad saying it again.  
> If I unblock my number will you save it as something cute?

What. The. Fuck? Niall distinctly remembers Flora saying that Harry used to work for her but based on these messages he seems... Well, he kind of seems like a moron. But for some reason Niall is kind of, endeared by it. Oh, he doesn't think that Harry isn't a threat. Flora doesn't work with amateurs and she certainly doesn't work with people who aren't absolutely the best at what they do, so he knows that Harry Styles could probably shoot him from fifty metres away without blinking an eye, same as he could do to Harry, but for some reason, Niall doesn't think Harry will hurt him. 

Or maybe he just thinks Harry's fit. Either way. 

[from.Niall] 1:22  
 _sure whatever mate just tell me what you want_

[from.Harry S] 1:23  
> Maybe something to do with my curly hair. Louis had me saved as Curly for a long time after we first met.

Niall opens up a separate string of messages to Flora. 

[from.Niall] 1:24  
> who the fuck is louis and why is harry texting me about him?

He glares at his phone when she doesn't respond immediately, the way she expects of him. Fecking hypocrite. Niall can't even count on two hands the amount of times he's had to rush through getting someone off and then kick them to the streets so he could take one of Flora's calls or answer a message. 

[from.Niall] 1:24  
> i still don't know who the fuck louis is

[from.Harry S] 1:25  
> Oh. He's my mate. Likes to steal things from vaults, it's kind of his thing. He usually sticks to banks but he was dying to score from the Hathaways with their brand new top of the line vault.

[from.Niall] 1:26  
> guess he'll have to be a bit quicker next time

[from.Harry S] 1:28  
> He's glaring at my mobile. I think he's pretending it's you.

[from.Niall] 1:28  
> is there a point to this conversation?

[from.Harry S] 1:29  
> Not really. Just wanted to chat.

Niall rolls his eyes harder than he's ever rolled them in his life and puts his phone on silent. He's just trying to get home in peace, not strike up a pointless conversation with the man he replaced on Flora's roster. 

They get to his flat not long after that and Niall thanks the driver, who ignores him, before heading up.

He lives one floor below the penthouse. He can more than afford the penthouse, of course, but that would draw attention to him. A twenty-something Irishman living on the top floor of an already expensive building? Way more attention than Niall can afford to have placed on him. He went one floor lower, which still came with a hefty price tag, but is more or less what everyone else in the building pays and it helps him fly under the radar for the most part. He has a cover story that he's had to break out a few times, but usually the other residents leave him well enough alone. 

He lets himself into his flat, toeing off his shoes and shedding his shirt still in the front foyer. He strips out of the rest of his clothes on his way to his bathroom and showers with the lights off, too tired to bother with electricity. He dries himself off quickly and efficiently and pulls on a pair of boxers. He retrieves his mobile from his trouser pockets in the hallway and plugs it in to charge. The screen lights up when he gets it connected and he sees that he has another text from Harry. 

[from.Harry S] 2:26  
> Sleep well x H

Which. What the fuck? 

Niall deletes the entire conversation with Harry, nearly deletes him from his phone altogether, but decides that having Harry's number might prove useful at some point and keeps it. He absolutely does not answer Harry's text and he _absolutely_ does not have a dream that night about a tall man with curly hair and green eyes asking him to dance at a party.

\----

"I've got a job for you," Flora says instead of hello when Niall answers his phone at way too early o'clock the next morning.

"Good morning, Niall, you did a great job last night and I would be lost without your amazing skills," Niall says, voice rough from being roused from a particularly good dream, though he can't remember much of it now. 

Flora huffs but Niall can tell it's more in amusement than anything else. "Good morning, Niall, you did a decent job last night and I could replace you and your skills in a second if I needed to." 

Niall lets out a laugh and asks, "So what's this job?" 

"There's a very expensive painting that I need you to pick up for a friend of mine. It's in the London Carter Museum, part of their new exhibit. A courier should arrive any second with the details for you." 

As if she'd planned it (she probably had), the doorbell rings. Niall groans and rolls out of bed, phone still pressed to his ear. "I will never understand how you do that." 

Flora doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. Niall knows she's smiling smugly, probably still tucked up in bed with Kara. 

Niall answers the door and thanks the courier, not bothering to tip him because he knows Flora already has. He closes and locks the door before depositing the envelope on the table unopened. He makes quick work of shutting all the curtains in his kitchen and any room adjoining that would give someone a view into the kitchen. He lives pretty high, but there are plenty of buildings tall enough for someone to see into his flat if they really wanted to and in his line of work, there were often lots of people who really wanted to. 

He double checks and make sures his phone jammer is still on and functioning, his own mobile in possession of a chip that keeps it from being affected. He also checks to make sure his white noise machine is operating correctly, preventing anyone from hearing anything if they've bugged the room or are listening via scanner. Niall's new to the game, but he's not stupid. 

Finally he stands at his table and opens up the envelope. He pulls out building schematics and pictures of two different paintings. It was a precaution Niall had demanded when he first started working for Flora. She'd since adopted it for all of her employees: sending them a picture of what they were really after and a picture of something similar to act as a decoy if anyone got their hands on the envelope.

"The Munch is the one you're after," she says. 

"Seems pretty cut and dry," Niall says. "My regular fee should be fine." 

"You'll be getting more than your regular fee. I've heard intel that there is another party interested in the painting and that they're sending someone in for it as well. There's an extra million in this for you to get to it first." 

"Tonight, then." 

"My client will be pleased." 

"As long as you're pleased." 

Flora laughs. "Don't tell Harry, but you may just be the most charming employee I've ever had." 

"Speaking of Harry..." 

"I'd prefer not to," Flora says. "I didn't give him your number, but he's wily like that. Finding out information is his specialty. Whatever he's got on you, he got on his own." 

Niall hums and says goodbye and they both hang up.

\----

Niall is standing in the middle of the London Carter Museum, head cocked to the side as he studies a painting, careful to keep his face angled away from any security cameras they have in the area. Normally, he wouldn't risk casing somewhere this public, but the LCM recently upped their security and Niall wants to see for himself in the light of day before attempting it at night.

They’re a small museum, relying heavily on outdated security cameras and a few daytime security guards. It was owned and run by a couple who were art enthusiasts. They’d recently installed new heat sensors to meet protocol to host the a new exhibit featuring Edvard Munch’s _The Sick Child_ , tonight’s target. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a guy says, coming to stand beside Niall. Niall turns to look at the guy and has to physically stop his jaw from falling open. 

This guy is a fucking _work of art_. He is literally the most attractive person Niall has ever seen in his life and Niall's lifestyle requires him to be in contact with quite a few beautiful people on the regular. (His brain helpfully brings up images of Harry and Liam. Niall tells his brain to shut up.) This guy makes all those people look like toads. 

His hair is dark and looks soft, like it would fluff up if Niall ran his hands through it, which he kind of wants to do. He has these thick rimmed glasses on; dark brown eyes warm but attentive behind them. He has what looks like a few days of scruff on his chin and cheeks and it makes his angles even sharper. He's thin, all shoulders and elbows under his long sleeved black shirt. 

"Yeah, it is," Niall says finally, not talking about the artwork in the least. 

The guy laughs, like he sees right through Niall. "Very easy on the eyes." 

Niall blushes at that, reading the guy just as well as he'd read Niall, apparently. 

"I'm Zayn," the guy introduces, not holding out his hand for a handshake which Niall can definitely appreciate.

"Niall." 

"Do you know much about art, Niall?" Zayn asks, angling himself back towards the painting. 

"Not really," Niall says with a shrug. It's not totally untrue. He'd picked up things here and there during school and things that Flora had told him while he was in training, but he definitely was not an expert in any kind of way. "Just a fan of beautiful things, I guess." 

Zayn hums, low, and Niall blushes again. He's being so fecking obvious, but he can't seem to help it. This guy is seriously _gorgeous_ and it's been so long since Niall got to flirt with someone just because he wanted to and not because he needed a security code. 

He and Zayn walk around the museum together a bit more. Zayn tells Niall about some of the pieces that he's familiar with, his voice lilting, accent going thicker when he gets excited about something. 

Niall gets so wrapped up in Zayn and the way Zayn's face lights up when Niall asks him something about a piece he's particularly fond of that the museum is closing before he realizes it. 

"We're closing up, we're gonna need you guys to leave," a security guard calls to them. 

"Oops," Zayn says when the security guard has moved onto the next room. "Sorry for wasting your whole day." 

"No way, mate, you did not waste my day. This was much better than just walking around a museum by myself and having no fucking clue what anything was." 

"Why did you come? If you don't know much about art, I mean." 

Niall shrugs and doesn't meet Zayn in the eye when he says, "I told you. I'm a big fan of beautiful things." 

They make their way out of the museum and hesitate on the sidewalk out front. If Niall didn't have a job to do tonight, he would ask Zayn if he wanted to get coffee or dinner or something. But he does have a job to do, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets and leaves a bit of space between them. 

"I'll see you around then, Niall," Zayn says after a moment of silence has passed between them. 

"London's a big city, mate," Niall says, laughing a bit. He doesn't think it's funny, though. He's laughing to cover the fact that he's kind of sad. He really likes Zayn, his face is just a bonus. It's been a while since he felt this way about someone. 

"Yeah," Zayn agrees, "but I'm a fan of beautiful things, too, and I'm not really good at leaving well enough alone." 

Niall's a bit confused by what Zayn is saying, but he lets it go. He doesn't know Zayn that well yet, maybe this is just always how he talks. 

"Thank you for a great day," Niall says in return. 

With that, Zayn turns and starts walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction from the way Niall needs to be going.

\----

The wind is absolutely terrible when Niall returns to the LCM that night. He nearly turns into a human flag when he’s climbing up the side of the building. Fucking British weather.

Once he’s on the roof, he quickly jimmies the lock on the maintenance shed leaning up against the wall of the roof’s stairwell. He opens up the fuse box (an actual fucking fuse box, the people in charge of this place need to stop focusing so much on installing new heat sensors and spend a bit more money on the power source of those sensors, Jesus) and knocks out the fuse he needs to. To the untrained eye, it will simply look like the fuse was blown. It won’t be until they discover that the painting is missing that they’ll start to question the fuse. 

The power out where he needs it to be, Niall repels back down the side of the building, clinging tight to the brick every time there’s a breeze. 

He enters through the fire door of the main exhibit room after finding the fire alarm disabled. When all this is over, Niall is seriously thinking about putting in a complaint with the fire department.

It’s dark and quiet inside of the museum, everything lit by exit lights. There’s only one security guard on duty, Niall knows, and he’ll most likely stay at the front desk. There’s still electricity there so there will be nothing to tip him off. 

“So you're the infamous Niall,” a voice murmurs from behind Niall. 

Niall whirls around. "Who the fuck are you?" 

The guy's balancing a long tube in his hands and frowning at Niall. “Harry was right about you.” 

“Harry is a creep,” Niall says. The guy laughs, which is the opposite of what Niall wants. What the fuck is with these guys? Niall just wants to do his damn job. 

“Harry is used to getting his way, especially with people,” the guy says. “Our fault, really. We spoil him.” 

“You must be Louis." Niall doesn’t know why that’s what he says. That’s not what he meant to say. He’d meant to say something along the lines of _I don’t care, leave me alone_. He must have gotten distracted by Louis’ biceps, which are on display in his black vest. The right one is covered in tattoos and if Louis wasn't interrupting Niall in the middle of a job, he'd definitely ask about the giant deer. 

Louis smirks and nods. "Zayn said you were smart." 

“You know Zayn, too?” Louis doesn’t say anything, his smirk just gets bigger. Niall resists the urge to roll his eyes. “ Look, I don’t actually care,” he lies. He kinds of cares a lot, honestly. Mostly because it doesn’t seem like these guys are going to leave him alone. “Just tell me what you want.” 

“I already have what I want,” Louis says, bouncing the tube back and forth between his hands now. 

Niall glances at the wall, makes sure the painting he’s after is still up. Flora had mentioned competition for it, maybe Louis is that competition. The painting is still there, so at least that part of the night is going according to plan. When he looks back at Louis, Louis is watching him carefully. Niall just raises his eyebrows. 

“Listen, Niall. Haz likes you. Zayn likes you. Liam doesn’t seem to hate you and me? Well. You stole from the vault I wanted.” 

“Still bitter about that?” Niall interrupts, a bit smug; happy to have the upper hand in at least one place. 

“Only when I'm reminded, which Liam does like, a hundred times a day,” Louis answers. “My point is, they all seem to like you and I wanted to see what all the hype was about."

Niall doesn’t say anything, which makes Louis chuckle. He says, “Liam was just like you when I met him. Wanted absolutely nothing to do with me and Zayn. Was totally in this for himself. Now? Not so much.” 

Niall keeps his mouth shut, despite the fact that he has a million new questions. That makes Louis laugh again. He backs up towards the emergency exit and pulls it open. He throws Niall a wink and says, “See you around, bro,” before disappearing into the night.

\----

"Hello?" Harry says when he answers.

"Put Louis on the fucking line," Niall practically growls. 

"Louis!" Niall hears Harry yell. "It's for you. It's a very angry Niall." Harry must cover the mouthpiece because his "what did you do?" is muffled. 

"Hello, Neil," Louis says when he comes on the line. 

"You're a bastard, do you know that?" Niall asks, trying to keep from yelling. 

"You figured out it was a forgery, then," Louis says. 

"I figured out it was a fucking forgery, yeah," Niall spits back. "Where's the original?" 

"C'mon, mate, you know I can't tell you that." 

"I swear to god, you better still have it." Niall isn't normally an angry person, but he's beyond pissed right now. He'd gotten the painting all the way to Flora's, where she'd rolled it out for inspection before declaring it a forgery and telling Niall he'd better have a really good explanation for this. 

"Don't worry, Niall, it's somewhere safe. What did you think of the fake one? Zayn worked really hard on it." 

"Is this just to get back at me for the vault thing? Because I didn't _know_ you had like, dibs or whatever on it, okay?" Niall continues on, ignoring Louis. He needs to get this painting back _tonight_ if he wants to get paid and stay in Flora’s good books. 

“Give me... the… phone.” Niall hears Harry’s voice on the line. This is the muffled sound of scuffling and Harry going “thank you, Liam” before he’s saying to Niall, “Are you still there?” 

“Yes, I’m still here,” Niall says, rubbing his forehead where he can feel a headache starting to build. “Where’s my painting?” 

“Louis really didn’t mean anything by it,” Harry says which is _not_ what Niall asked. These guys are impossible to make focus. Niall thought he was bad, but they were so much worse. “He thought it would be funny.” 

“Well, it wasn’t,” Niall says. Normally, he probably would find this kind of thing funny, but it’s only his second job and he can’t fuck this up. Not when he’s got rent to pay and a reputation to build. So instead of waiting around for whatever Harry is going to say next, whatever excuse they’re going to give him for _messing with how he makes his fucking money_ , he hangs up. He’ll figure out a way to get the painting back without playing pass-the-mobile with them. 

Niall’s phone buzzes with a text. 

[from.Unknown] 2:10  
> meet me tmrow at noon at yvette’s bakery uptown

[from.Niall] 2:11  
> i dont even know who this is so why would i do that ?

[from.Unknown] 2:11  
> ill bring you the painting

[from.Niall] 2:12  
> u better not be fucking around mate. not really in the mood. 

[from.Unknown] 2:14  
> promise im not.  
> lou just thought itd be a laugh. we didnt mean to get u in trouble. 

[from.Niall] 2:15  
> bring me that painting and maybe i’ll forgive you

[from.Unknown] 2:15  
> deal

\----

Niall’s at Yvette’s at half eleven the next morning to scope it out. He’s had enough surprises for one week, thank you very much.

Yvette’s is a hole-in-the-wall kind of cafe, tucked in between a Tesco’s and pet shop. It’s small, has room enough for three tables with two chairs each and a counter with pastries and a coffeemaker. It’s the kind of cafe that makes Niall miss Mullingar. The girl behind the counter has a textbook open next to the till. She gets Niall his order and goes back to reading while Niall sits at one of the tables and waits. 

At exactly noon another customer comes into the cafe. It’s Liam. He nods at Niall before going to the counter and ordering himself a tea. Niall can’t hear what he says to the girl despite the small size of the shop, but he can hear her laugh as she pours him his tea and takes his money. Liam thanks her and comes over to take the seat in front of Niall, smiling as he puts down his tea. 

“Hi, mate,” Liam says. He’s nothing like the intimidating James Bond impersonator that Niall first saw at the Hathaways. His jawline is still strong and his shoulders are still broad; he absolutely still looks like he could take Niall out in less time than it would take for him to gulp down his tea, but his face is open and soft. He’s wearing a vest and a pair of joggers, a hat turned backwards on his head. He looks like a typical university student completely at home here in this cafe. 

“Where’s the painting?” Niall demands. He’s being impolite. He doesn’t much care. 

“I have it, promise,” Liam tells him. “I just figured you and I could have a chat first. Feel like we owe you an apology.” 

“We,” Niall says and it isn’t a question. Liam takes it as one anyways. 

“Me, Louis, Harry, and Zayn,” Liam says. “Well, mostly Louis, but good luck with that.” 

“Why did he even take it if he wasn’t going to sell it, or whatever?” Niall asks. 

“He thought it’d be a laugh,” Liam explains, “and it’s his way of flirting with you. Harry won’t stop going on about how fit you are, it’s getting us all a bit bothered if I’m being honest. Louis wanted to see for himself.” 

“By stealing the painting I need to keep my job?” 

Liam shrugs. “Not much rhyme or reason for why Louis does things, to be fair. You get used to it.” 

Niall doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to sip at his own tea, which has long since cooled. It tastes shit, but he’s pretty sure it makes him look indifferent so he does it anyways. 

“I’m going to give you the painting,” Liam says, sipping his own tea. “I just wanted a chance to make sure that we’re all good. Are we good, bro?” 

“All good,” Niall says. “Just give me the painting so I can make rent this month.” 

“Sure,” Liam agrees easily. He signals to the girl at the counter, who reaches beneath it and draws out the long tube that Louis had had that night at the museum. Liam leans back in his chair and stretches out his arm to take it from her. He sets it on the table in between their cups of tea. 

The girl answers Niall’s frown with a smile and a shrug. Mouths _he’s fit_ at him when Niall raises his eyebrows in question. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, if only because what she says is completely true. 

“Here’s your painting,” Liam says. “You can check it if you want, but I promise it’s the real one this time.” 

Niall takes the tube and straps it to his back without a thank you. He’s about to get up and leave when Liam’s mobile goes off, Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me a River” filling the cafe. 

“You listen to JT?” Niall asks before he can stop himself. 

“I love a good JT song, mate,” Liam responds. “You’re a fan?” 

“Isn’t everyone? His performance at the VMA’s last year was life changing.” 

Liam perks up considerably. “You can never tell _anyone_ I told you this, but when ‘Nsync came on with him I was definitely screaming just as much as my sisters.” 

“You have sisters?”

Liam freezes for just a second, as if he’s debating whether or not to lie. Niall already knows he _has_ sisters, but that isn’t much to go on. This line of work involves a lot of lying; of only very few people knowing the real you. The only person in this new life that knows anything about Niall’s old life is Flora. The only thing he brought into this life with him was his name and accent, though he can switch between accents fluidly if he needs to. 

“Two sisters, yeah,” Liam says and Niall can tell he’s not lying. He feels the weight of Liam’s trust pressing down against him. Family is something that you keep a secret. Telling people about your family makes you vulnerable in a way that nothing else does; family gets everyone hurt. “Ruth and Nicola. They’re great. Well, as great as older sisters can be.” 

“Do they know?” Niall asks. “About what you do now, I mean.” 

“Does your family?” Liam counters. 

“Fair point.” 

“What about you?” Liam asks. “Any sisters?” 

“Nope,” Niall answers. He wavers for only a second before deciding on honesty himself. “Got a brother, though. Greg. And he’s got a son, Theo, who is the cutest baby on the planet.” 

“Probably don’t get to see them much though, do you?” 

Niall scratches at his hair and looks away from Liam, tries not to think about the last time he got a picture of Theo from Denise, tries not to think about how big Theo must be now. He’s been with Flora for just over a year, long enough for Theo to learn to walk, maybe start to talk. He wonders if his brother ever mentions Theo’s Uncle Niall, who went away. 

“No,” Niall says, “don’t get to see much of them at all.” 

“This is a hard job to do,” Liam says, sounding pensive. “Even harder when you try to do it alone.” 

“Who do you suggest I do it with? Friends aren’t exactly easy to come by in this line of work.” 

“There’s us.” 

Niall feels his heart speed up at that. The memory of belonging somewhere -- of having friends to drink a pint or two with, of having a couch to crash on when he didn’t feel like going on -- makes him ache. He misses it, is the thing. He misses _knowing_ people. He misses people who know him. He knew what he would be giving up when he accepted Flora’s offer, but knowing it and living it are two very different things. 

"I don't even know you," Niall says because it's the easiest thing. 

"You could," Liam says, voice going eager. 

"You don't even know _me_ ," Niall protests. "I could work as a freelance assassin for all you know." 

"We haven't heard anything about you working as an assassin," Liam says, "and I think that's something that would get around." 

Niall just stares at him. Liam's smile doesn't waver for a second. 

"Listen, mate," Liam says, moving to stand up. "We're not gonna make you do anything you don't want to do, but we'd really like the chance to get to know you." 

"Why?" Niall accidentally asks. He's just Niall. Yeah, he has a pretty cool job, but he's still just Niall. He drinks too many pints, watches crap telly, and supports underdog football clubs. 

Liam's brow furrows, like he doesn't understand Niall's question. Niall is about to tell him to just forget about it, when Liam says, "Because you seem interesting. And a little bit lonely, if I'm honest. Reminds me of me when I first got into the game." 

"Louis said the same thing. That I remind him of you." 

That makes Liam smile. "Then you probably need us just as much as I needed them back then." 

Liam holds out his fist for a fist bump, which Niall grants him, a _thank you_ for his honesty and kindness. He didn't have to bring Niall the painting, he didn't have to tell him about his sisters. Niall still isn't sure about any of the others, but he knows that Liam is a good person, and Niall could always use a few more good people in his life.

\----

"Good work," Flora says. She unrolls the painting on the table in her study, inspecting it closely. "It's the real one and you're only twelve hours late."

"Take it up with your old pal, Louis," Niall retorts, sitting on a stool and eating a bag of crisps, salty hands far away from Flora's precious painting. 

She looks over her shoulder to raise an eyebrow at him. Niall shrugs, meaning it both as an apology and as indifference to her critique of his performance. Niall knows that he technically shouldn't have let Louis leave the museum without at least checking what he had in the tube. He shouldn't have let Louis leave the museum at all full stop. Not alive, at least. Niall's never had the stomach for violence, though. He knows enough to defend himself, but wouldn't know the first thing about killing someone and not getting caught. It's just not really his... thing. 

Flora pulls her gloves off after a few more minutes of examination. She taps out something on her phone and then tosses that onto her desk and disposes of the gloves. She pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to Niall. "This was rolled up in the painting for you." 

Niall wipes his hands off on his trousers and takes it from her. He opens it to find a caricature of himself, the words _sorry. hard to say no to lou sometimes._ written across the bottom. It's signed with a _Z_ in the corner. 

"They're trying to recruit you, too, huh?" Flora asks, but it doesn't really sound like a question. It doesn't sound like an accusation either, which makes Niall relax just a bit. 

"I guess," Niall says. 

"You didn't check the painting before you gave it to me," Flora says, her voice free of accusation yet again which is more than Niall deserves, honestly. He should have checked the tube the second Liam handed it to him, but he'd trusted Liam to give him the real thing and he _had_. He'd gone with his instinct, he won't feel bad about that. 

Niall shrugs, unsure of what Flora is asking him right now. 

She seems to hesitate before she speaks, which makes Niall a bit nervous about whatever she's going to say. In the year and a half that he's known her -- in the year that he'd trained with her and the few months before when she'd been scoping him out and the few months that he's been working for her since -- she's been nothing but confident and exact. She's always a dozen steps ahead of everyone, especially Niall. Now, though, it feels like he's thrown her off. 

"When I first met Harry..." She stops and Niall isn't sure she's going to go on, but she does. "When I first met Harry, he had no idea what this life would cost him. Harry was this happy go lucky kid, kind of like you really. Having to cut ties with his family... It changed him. He loved the life, but I know that part of him always loved his family more, resented this life for taking them away from him. He grew a bit jaded, honestly. His work had never been better, but it got to the point where he pushed everyone away, including me, because he was afraid of having to let go later. He was so unhappy. 

"When he first met Louis, Zayn, and Liam, well. He went back to being himself again. They gave him something that we rarely get in this line of work: a home. And as much as I hate that I did that to Harry, that I took him away from the people he loved, I'm glad that he found them. I'm glad that the life I gave him also brought him to these boys." 

Niall doesn't know what to say. The way Flora speaks about the people she employs... Niall has always assumed that them leaving doesn't affect her. The way she talks about Harry, though, proves that they're more than just a profit-margin to her. Niall feels an overwhelming surge of affection for her, though he keeps it in check. Flora built up her walls for a reason, and Niall respects her too much to try and push past them when she's already letting him peer through the gate. 

"What should I do? About them, I mean," Niall says. 

Flora shrugs and picks her mobile back up. She taps at it a few times and Niall feels his own mobile vibrate, knows she just wire transferred him his fee. "That's up to you, but I don't think it would hurt to give them a chance." 

"Didn't Harry leave once he joined up with them or whatever? Is this a subtle way of firing me?" 

"Harry left because it was the right thing for him to do. You're the only one who gets to make decisions about your life." 

"You're being extremely nice to me right now and I'm getting a bit suspicious," Niall tells her. 

"I'm not just here to be your boss, Niall. Your training doesn't end because I taught you how to disarm a motion detection system blindfolded." 

"So you're like, my mentor or something?" Niall grins at her, knowing the word will make her scowl. She does. 

"Get out of my house," she says. 

"Bye, mentor," Niall says. He hops off the stool and leaves the room before she can say anything in response. It's very rare that Niall gets the last word with Flora and he's going to take a few minutes to bask in this. 

He's not even to the front door when he gets a text from her, 

[from.Flora] 3:56  
> as your mentor, i have some advice for you  
> don't ever bring me a forgery again

Niall chuckles but takes the advice to heart, clearing out his messages and whistling as he exits the house.

\----

"I have a job for you," Flora says, leaning against the workspace in Niall's kitchen. Niall had answered the door at half six in the bloody morning to find Flora on the other side, looking put together and all business, while he tugged his t-shirt a bit lower over the waistband of his boxers. She'd proceeded to invite herself into Niall's flat and demand tea of him.

"What is it?" Niall asks, too tired to use more words. 

"There's a will in a safety deposit box that a client of mine is very interested in getting their hands on." 

"That warranted a trip down to my flat?" 

Flora rolls her eyes. "I was already in the area, figured I'd do a house call, see that you didn't destroy the flat I so graciously found for you." 

"You have such little faith in me, honestly," Niall says. He hands her her tea and takes a sip of his own. "Anyways, what's the catch?" 

"It's a two person job," Flora says.

"That's fine," Niall says. "I ran two person jobs through the whole end of my training. You know I can work with someone." 

"It's Louis." 

Niall groans. For the last month and a half every job that Niall as been on one of the guys have made an appearance. Zayn was waiting _inside_ the vault where Niall was sent to retrieve some jewels. Liam was waiting outside of a house that had an honest-to-god _attack dog_ with some bandages and a water bottle. Harry _somehow_ keeps sneaking his jumpers into Niall’s dresser and hiding Niall’s own. Niall has no fucking clue how he does it. Mysteriously, the heating in his flat stops working for a few days after that so Niall is forced to walk around in Harry’s jumpers. Harry’s the worst thief Niall has ever met, honestly. He’s the _opposite_ of a thief. 

Louis though. Louis is the _worst_ of all of them. He keeps showing up or texting to ruin things for Niall. Niall went to the cinema for the first time in months one day and before the previews even ended, Louis was dropping into the seat beside him. He didn’t stay very long; just long enough to whisper how the movie ends and then he was gone before Niall could catch hold of him. He does it when Niall’s trying to catch up on football in his flat, too. Sends him a text going, 

[from.Louis] 2:04pm  
>shame about derby losing isn’t it

And it’s never on the actual day of the game. It’s only when Niall is sitting down to watch the recording he made of it. It’s driving him mad. 

Now, he’s being assigned a job with him. 

"This is one of the most important jobs you're ever going to have, Niall, and he's the best in the business when it comes to vaults," Flora tells him in a tone that brokers no argument. "Besides, I've already spoken with him. He tries to double cross you or let you take the fall for it in any way and he'll never work on the continent again, I'll make sure of it." 

"You're such a good mentor, looking out for your mentee like that." Niall smirks at her over the rim of his mug, but her expression doesn't change. 

"Don't let your personal feelings get in the way," she warns. "I want that will in my hand by noon on Friday." 

Niall nods and takes the envelope she pulls out of her handbag from her. "Noon on Thursday, got it." 

Flora smiles, pleased, and leaves, tea untouched. 

[from.Niall] 6:56  
> i'm never making you tea again

\----

“Hi, who do we speak to about opening a joint account?” Louis asks the girl at the counter, smiling at her. His hand is intertwined with Niall’s and he holds them up, grin getting even bigger. “Mum advised against it, but we’re big believers in the what’s mine is yours philosophy.”

It takes everything Niall has not to burst out laughing. Or roll his eyes. Either or, honestly. Since meeting up with Louis earlier this morning to go over the plan for breaking into the security deposit box, Niall’s been very confused about how he feels about Louis. He was pretty sure that his anger about the painting thing would carry over, but Louis had greeted him with a firm handshake and a “hello, Neil, Harry sends his love” and Niall’s been pretty lost ever since. 

“We don’t need to pretend to be married to get into the office, Louis,” Niall had argued. 

Louis had just rolled his eyes. “I know that, but it’s more _fun_ this way.” 

“Thought you would have had enough fun, stealing the painting I was trying to steal and all,” Niall had retorted. 

“I’m trying to make up for all the fun I didn’t get to have breaking into the Hathaway vault,” Louis answered back easily. “Now, if you could focus please we have a very gay agenda to get back to.” 

Which is how Niall had ended up sitting in front of the manager of the bank he was about to rob, with Louis’ hand still linked with his, listening to Louis gush on and on about their imaginary wedding. 

“His mum started _sobbing_ when we told her,” Louis says, tilting his head towards Niall. “It took us nearly an hour to calm her down.” 

“Mums do tend to get emotional about these kinds of things,” the manager says kindly. He’s clearly very uncomfortable with how sappy Louis is being, but is doing his best to keep it to himself. 

“Darling, let’s not keep the man. I’m sure he has things to do,” Niall says, squeezing Louis’ fingers. 

Louis glances at him and then sighs dramatically. “I guess you’re right. You’re always right. He’s always right.” 

Niall coughs to mask the fact that he’d like to be laughing uncontrollably right now. Louis puts on a great act for anyone that hasn’t spent more than thirty seconds with him being his normal self. He’s so over the top and ridiculous right now that Niall can’t find the slightest trace of anger he felt the other day. 

“Alright, then, I’ll take you down to your new safety deposit box,” the manager says, getting a set of keys out of his drawer. Niall briefly runs through the layout of the bank again, mentally mapping out their route to the vault. This place is like fucking Gringotts, all the boxes and vaults are underground like they’re afraid their two dozen security cameras (that Louis' already put on loop) and three armed guardsman, in addition to needing the manager's key and your own key to even get _in_ to the boxes, aren’t enough to deter thieves. They’d be right, but that’s not the point. 

They make their way through the security doors and down the area where the safety deposit boxes are located. The manager of the bank gestures to the one that he’s just issued to them under their fake names and produces the key for it. 

“Oh, babe, look at it!” Louis practically coos. Niall can’t help but let out a laugh at that one. It’s a fucking _security box_ and Louis is acting like it’s an actual engagement ring or something. “It’s so shiny! After the ceremony, we should put our vows in here for safe keeping.” 

At mention of the wedding ceremony, Niall springs into action, quickly wrapping his forearm around the bank manager’s neck. Louis is quick to put his hand over the manager’s mouth, all mirth gone from his face as he concentrates on keeping the man quiet. 

“Good job, future husband,” Louis says as they work together to lower the unconscious bank manager to the ground. 

"Could say the same to you, future husband," Niall says. "The way you put those security cameras on loop earlier was a work of art. The kind of art I wanna steal."

"Niall Horan, are you saying you want to steal me?" Louis asks. "Was stealing my heart not enough for you? Now you want the rest, too? You bloody thieves. Nothing is ever enough."

"You're definitely enough," Niall answers, surprised at how naturally and easily he's fallen into this banter with Louis. He hated the guy less than ten hours ago. "Well, you and that will we need to get for Flora." 

Louis laughs and flips Niall off, which makes Niall start laughing. 

"Okay, right. We have a job to do," Louis says, pulling himself together. Niall does the same and together they relieve the bank manager of his key to the security deposit boxes. 

"This feels way too easy," Niall comments as Louis works to pick the lock for the key they don't have. Niall has the manager's key already slid into place, ready to turn it at Louis' say so. 

"Or maybe we're just really good at our jobs," Louis says. There's a clicking noise and Louis goes, "Alright, should work."

It works like a dream. They slide the box out and remove the will, sliding it into a nondescript envelope that Louis tucks under the waistband of his trousers. 

"Let's get out of here," he says. Niall nods and they start making their way out of the underground area of the bank. The manager is still lying uselessly on the floor. Niall feels a bit bad, it's rather chilly down here, but he figures someone will come looking for him eventually. 

They make it all the way to the end of the hall and are less than two steps from stepping back out into the lobby when Louis grabs Niall and pulls him into the bank manager's office, closing the door behind them. 

"Louis, what the fuck?" Niall demands. He's ready to take Louis down if this is some kind of double cross. 

"There's a guy by the front door," Louis explains, opening the door just enough to peer out. "I know him. Well, I know of him. He's bad news for us." 

"Why?"

"There's no way him being here is a coincidence. He's after this will, too. We need to get out of here without him seeing us."

"Don't think that's possible, mate," Niall tells him after his own look out the door. "That's the only way out and he doesn't look like he's gonna move anytime soon." 

Louis has his mobile out and is texting their driver. "Car's here, we just gotta get to it." 

"I have a fecking crazy idea," Niall says, "but we might be able to pull it off." 

"At this point, fecking crazy night be our only chance."

\----

"You said the plan was crazy, not suicidal," Louis hisses as they cross the lobby, hands woven back together.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that the best place to hide is in plain sight?" Niall says. They're approaching the main entrance where the guy is standing in wait and Niall is doing everything he can to appear relaxed and nonchalant, even as his heart rate speeds up and he feels the back of his neck go cold. Truth be told, he doesn't like this anymore than Louis, but it's the only chance they've got, really. 

Louis' hand is sweaty in Niall's own, but he's holding up like a champ, just like Niall knew he would. They're just past the threshold when Niall hears the telltale click of the safety being turned off of a gun. Without thinking, he pushes Louis forward and outside completely, yelling, "Go!", before turning back to face this guy and his gun. 

Someone in the bank screams and the whole room erupts into chaos, all while the guy aims his gun steadily at Niall's chest. Niall hesitates only a second, to center himself, and then he launches himself at the guy, grabbing the wrist he has outstretched and twisting it so he’s forced to drop his weapon. It’s like, Assassin 101 not to hold a weapon like that, who trained this guy? The Die Hard movies? 

What the guy lacks in gun handling ability, he more than makes up for in hand-to-hand combat. Niall’s on his back on the floor before he even blinks, the breath totally knocked out of him. There are stars blossoming behind his eyes from how hard his head hit the floor. The guy pulls him up by the collar of his shirt, and slams Niall’s head into the floor twice more, before Niall gets enough leverage to push him off. The bank guards spring into action, then, leaping on the guy and holding him down. A concerned teller makes her way to Niall. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, trying to help him up. Niall doesn’t want to get up though, he just wants to lie here for a while until his head stops feeling like a plane is trying to take off inside of it. “That was so brave of you.” 

“Thanks,” Niall says. He twists his head a little and the whole room goes spinning. The tile floor feels good under his cheek and it grounds him a bit. Enough that he can see Louis storming back into the bank like he’s got something to prove. One of the guards tries to stop him, but whatever Louis says to him does the trick because the next second, Louis is crouching down over Niall, thanking the bank teller and telling her to go check on the other people. 

“How you doing, Nialler?” Louis asks, voice quiet and gentle, like he can tell that Niall is in a lot of pain. “I’m gonna get you out of here, babe, okay? Liam’s on his way in a paramedic uniform so we can leave. Just stay still until then.” 

“Don’t really…” Niall trails off, forgetting what he was about to say. “Don’t really think I have a choice. Head hurts.” 

“I know,” Louis says. His voice is so soothing. It’s making Niall a bit sleepy. “You can’t sleep though, yeah, Niall? Stay awake for me.” 

Niall blinks slowly. Everything is so hazy. He blinks a few more times and then Liam’s face is swimming into his line of vision. “Liam!” Niall says happily. 

“Hi, Niall,” Liam says. His voice is low-pitched, just like Louis’ and it doesn’t make Niall’s pound the way the other voices in the bank do. “Time to go home, okay?” 

One of the bank guards comes over to see if he can be of assistance. Liam says something that makes him back away again. Niall’s eyes follow the guard for a few steps and then fall back on Liam, who fills out that paramedic’s uniform quite nicely, actually. Niall blinks a few times and chocks that thought up to the concussion he most definitely has. He’s supposed to be _avoiding_ these guys, not finding them fit. Except Zayn. Niall’s pretty sure no matter how much he tries to avoid them he’ll still find Zayn beautiful. He’s also pretty sure he’s not the only one. 

“Ready, babes?” Louis is kneeling down next to him again. “We’re going to have you sit up.” 

The rest of Liam and Louis’ adventure in getting Niall out of the bank is more blur than anything else to Niall. His head is absolutely _pounding_ and he can’t focus on anything for too long or this obnoxious pressure builds up behind his forehead. In short, he’s pretty sure his brain is going to explode even as Louis and Liam deposit him into the cool, dark backseat of the car Flora sent to fetch them. Liam gets in on the right side of him and Louis circles the car the car to slide in on his left. 

“Louis?” Niall reaches out for Louis, trying to steady himself as the car lurches into motion. 

“I’m right here, Niall,” Louis says, pulling Niall closer to him. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Niall manages to say, and then he leans forward and throws up all over Louis’ shoes.

\----

“This isn’t my flat,” Niall says. Louis and Liam are each on one side of him, helping him up the steps into a relatively posh looking building that Niall has never seen before.

“Are you always this observant or is this concussion worse than we think?” Louis asks as he pulls the door open. 

Liam ignores Louis and says to Niall, “No, it’s not. It’s ours. You’re in no condition to be alone right now.” 

“I’m fine,” Niall protests. 

Liam hums like he doesn’t believe him and keeps moving them forward into the lift. They get off on the fourth floor. Liam unlocks the door to their flat and he and Louis practically drag Niall across the threshold. 

“Get him into the spare room, yeah?” Louis says, sliding out from underneath Niall’s arm. “I’m going to fill Zayn and Hazza in and call Flora to send someone for the will.” 

“Just bring it to her,” Niall says. “You know how she likes things hand delivered.” 

Louis looks conflicted for a second, but then his eyes focus on Niall and he shakes his head. “No, mate. Don’t really want to be anywhere but here right now.” 

Niall is way too concussed to figure out what the fuck _that_ means. He’ll think about it later, when his head stops feeling like a cracked egg. 

“Come on, Niall, let’s get you into bed,” Liam says. He adjusts the arm he has around Niall’s waist so he’s supporting almost all of Niall’s weight and leads him through a living area, down a hallway, and into a bedroom. 

It’s a smallish room. About the size of Niall’s bedroom back home in Ireland. It has a bed with the head pushed up against the back wall at the center of the room. A night table on either side. A dresser to his right with an open closet next to it. A bookshelf and armchair to the left. It’s a rather sparse room, but it’s nice and it’s not too bright, which Niall’s headache definitely appreciates. 

Liam gets him out of his shoes and trousers so that he’s just wearing his jumper, pants, and socks when Liam helps him slide under the blankets, which are cool from disuse. Niall settles back, propped up by the pillows; they feel too good for him to keep protesting, honestly. 

“Wait here,” Liam says as if Niall has any other thought besides sleep in his head right now. Well, maybe also about how good Liam’s shirt looks stretched across his shoulders like that. But that’s probably the concussion thinking for him again. 

A few minutes go by and Niall is just about to let his eyes close when Zayn comes into the room. 

“You’ve got first watch, then,” Niall says to him. 

Zayn laughs and slides the armchair closer to the bed. He plops down in it and puts his socked feet up on the duvet next to Niall’s knees. He’s got a sketchbook and some pencils with him. “Can’t let you fall asleep, mate. Think you might have a concussion.” 

“‘m fine,” Niall protests. He’s not fine. The room is still spinning and he feels like he’s about to be sick again, but Zayn doesn’t need to know that. 

Zayn seems to know it anyway, if the skeptical look he gives Niall is anything to go by. “Liam and Louis don’t think you’re fine and, to be honest, neither do I. We’re gonna stay up with you, yeah? Just to be safe.” 

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Niall grumbles a bit, burrowing further under the blankets. 

Zayn smiles and it’s both kind and mocking. It somehow makes him look even more beautiful. “We don’t have to talk or anything,” he offers, “I brought shit to do, if you’d rather just sit here. We can do whatever, as long as you don’t sleep.” 

Niall sighs heavily and narrows his eyes. He just wants to go _home_. He doesn’t need a babysitter or four. “How do I know you’re not just keeping me here so Louis can double cross me?” 

“Because we like you, bro,” Zayn says, not even looking at Niall as he opens his sketchbook and sets up his pencils. “We don’t double cross people we like.” 

“What about that time with the painting?” Niall demands. 

“Fucking let it go, mate,” Louis groans. He comes into the room to deposit two cups of tea on the left bedside table. “Besides, I didn’t _double cross_ you. It was a prank. A harmless prank. And in case you’re worried I double crossed you this time, you should know Flora already sent someone to pick up the will. She says to do as we say and get better, you’re no good to her if you can’t get out of bed.” Louis moves to stand by Zayn’s chair, his hand resting on the back of Zayn’s neck gently. 

Niall resists the urge to grumble again and instead reaches for his tea with a “thanks.” 

Louis nods, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of Zayn’s skull. He speaks to Zayn when he says, “Haz is making us some dinner. He’ll swap out with you after we eat.” 

“Don’t mind,” Zayn says, leaning into Louis’ stroking. “Niall’s good company.” 

“You just think he’s fit,” Louis accuses. His eyes are glued to Niall and Niall can feel himself flushing pink. 

Zayn smirks and waits until he has Louis’ attention back on him to say, “I think you’re fit and you’re terrible company.” 

Louis’ hand moves to splay across Zayn’s shoulder, his thumb coming to rest on Zayn’s collarbone, hidden beneath his shirt. He digs his thumb in, causing Zayn to flinch and hiss, “Fuck off, you possessive bastard.” Louis just laughs and swipes his thumb over the spot on Zayn’s collar instead. He heads for the hall, asking over his shoulder, “Think you can stomach some food, Neil?” 

“I thought you did your research on me,” Niall manages to quip even as his stomach starts up a civil war. “If you were any good at your job, you’d know I’m always up for food.” 

Louis flips him the bird as he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“He’s actually very good at his job,” Zayn says offhandedly. “He’s had the fridge stocked with your favorite kind of beer for weeks.”

“Why?” Niall is puzzled. And a little creeped out. But mostly puzzled. He figures if these guys were going to kill him or something, they would have done it already. 

Zayn raises his eyebrows, making Niall feel like he’s missing something important. He doesn’t say anything and Niall’s too tired to really interrogate him, so he changes the subject. “You draw?” 

“A bit,” Zayn says almost reluctantly. 

“I think it’s probably more than a bit, mate. That Munch you made for Louis’ prank was amazing.” 

“Yeah, but that’s like, copying?” Zayn’s forehead scrunches up, like he’s searching for the right words. “‘s different when it’s your own stuff.” 

“The drawing you did of me was good,” Niall says and Zayn drops his eyes to the floor, a small smile on his face. Niall’s pretty sure he’s overstepping his bounds (which seems to be a requirement with this guys, really) when he asks, “Can I see?”

“You want to see my sketches?” Zayn sounds surprised. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay.” 

“Sure, yeah. That’s… I’ve never really shown them to anyone that isn’t Liam before.”

“Promise to lie if I think you’re rubbish.” Niall smiles to let Zayn know he’s just joking. 

Zayn’s smile is tight and nervous, but it’s there. Niall thinks Zayn looks gorgeous like this: flustered and shy and hesitant. Then again, Niall isn’t sure there’s a situation where he wouldn’t find Zayn mind-blowingly beautiful. He’s only human. 

Zayn gets out of the chair and situates himself on the bed, careful not to jostle Niall as he leans up against the headboard beside him. Instead of flipping open his sketchbook, Zayn hands the whole thing over. Part of Niall wants to hand it right back, wants to let Zayn pick and choose the parts of himself that he’s showing Niall right now. This book is clearly precious to Zayn and Niall doesn’t want to ruin it. The other part of him wants to wrap himself around these drawings and protect them -- protect _Zayn_ , which is stupid because Zayn can protect himself. 

Niall flips up the cover carefully, cautious of the way his fingers drag across the paper. He goes through the book page by page, Zayn chiming in every so often about a certain drawing. The book is a mix of cartoon style drawings with broad marker strokes and funny speech bubbles, shadowy city skylines smudged in charcoal, comic book characters redrawn in pastels, and portraits. Niall spends the most time studying the portraits. 

They’re done in pencil, lines thin and light. Niall is careful to only touch the corners of the pages, so afraid of dragging his hand across one of them and ruining it by accident. The first five he comes across are obviously Zayn’s family; they look just like him. 

“My sisters,” Zayn says, “and my parents.” 

“You really miss them, huh?” Niall asks though the love that went into these drawings answers that question. 

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just reaches over and flips to the next page in the book. There’s a photo taped to one half of the page of Zayn with his arms wrapped around one of his sisters, his chin resting on top of her head. The other half of the page is a drawing of the two of them in the same pose, though they look older in the hand-drawn one. 

“That’s Waliyha, one of my younger sisters,” Zayn explains. “I haven’t seen… I kind of just imagined what she would look like now.” 

“It’s beautiful, Zayn,” Niall says. “She’s beautiful.” 

Zayn swallows and nods. He gestures for Niall to turn the page, so Niall does. 

There are a few more pages of random doodles that Niall is pretty sure Zayn drew in three seconds that are millions times better than anything Niall could draw _ever_ and then he stumbles upon more pencil sketches, this time of Louis, Liam, and Harry. 

“Fuck, Zayn.” Niall’s voice is barely there. The beauty of these sketches literally leave him breathless. “These are incredible.” 

There’s Louis, outlined mid-kick on a football pitch. There’s Harry, shaded with a blanket wrapped around himself and headphones on. There’s Liam, with meticulous lines portraying him fresh out of the shower in a towel and checking his mobile. (Which is definitely an image Niall is not going to be able to get out of his head. Fuck.) 

There are dozens of sketches of the other boys either by themselves or in different combinations. Niall goes through these pages slowly, glancing up at Zayn’s face every so often. Zayn isn’t looking back at him, but rather at the portrait of Liam on the page, his face soft and eyes fond. 

Niall flips the page, eyes still on Zayn, watching for his expression to change. He isn’t disappointed. Zayn’s cheeks grow dark and his look turns sheepish. Niall looks down, eager to see the picture that made Zayn get all embarrassed. It’s… 

It’s him. 

It’s unmistakably Niall with his eyes turned up like he’s looking at something, his mouth open and smiling. 

“Zayn…” 

“It’s from that day in the museum,” Zayn interrupts. “When we were like, walking around and looking at everything. You just looked so. In _awe_.” 

“In awe of your face, probably,” a voice says. 

Niall and Zayn’s heads both whip up to see Harry poking his head just through the door, hair pushed up in a headscarf. Harry smirks as Niall works to school his face back to neutral. 

“Good thieves the two of you are, not even realizing someone else’s come in the room,” Harry chides with a smile. 

“Shut up, Hazza,” Zayn says. “At least we didn’t almost walk in front of a motion detector because we were texting Liam about dinner.” 

“Did that seriously happen?” Niall asks. 

“Absolutely, it did,” Zayn says at the same time Harry loudly demands, “Shut up, Zayn.” 

Harry scowls as both Zayn and Niall burst into giggles. He leans against the doorframe and threatens, “Be nice to me or I won’t give you your dinner.” 

“If I’m nice to you during dinner, can I have _you_ for dessert?” Zayn asks. He doesn’t even look at Harry as he says it, busy closing his sketchbook and putting away his pencils. Which means Zayn doesn’t see what Niall sees -- Harry’s cheeks going red and eyes going a bit unfocused. Niall feels like he’s intruding on an extremely private conversation, but it isn’t like he can _go_ anywhere.

“Zayn, we have a guest. You need to be _nice_ ,” Harry answers once Zayn’s gaze has landed back on him. 

Liam appears in the doorway then, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “Who isn’t being nice? We’re always nice to you,” he says, “unless you ask us not to be.” 

“I thought we were eating dinner, you dicks!” Louis’ voice echoes through the flat. 

Niall finds himself rolling his eyes along with the other three. Something warm settles in his stomach that he can’t quite identify. 

Zayn slides off of the bed and pulls the duvet off of Niall. He helps Niall to stand, which Niall would definitely protest about if Zayn weren’t the only thing standing still in the spinning room. 

“Alright, bro?” Zayn asks, fingers digging into Niall’s side. 

“‘m good,” Niall says after a minute. He takes a small step forward and when the room doesn’t tilt on its axis, he takes another one. Zayn steps with him on the next one and they follow Harry and Liam down the hall to kitchen. 

The kitchen is lit by three dozen or so candles scattered throughout the room. There’s a main light overhead that isn’t switched on. Other than that, it’s pretty standard: a fridge, some counters, a sink, dishwasher, oven, hob with a kettle still on it. There’s a table pushed up against the right hand wall, with five chairs arranged around the remaining three sides. 

“We thought the candles would be easier on your headache,” Louis says, already seated at the table. He took one of the chairs closest to the wall and is sitting folded up, knees pulled into his chest and back against the wall instead of the chair. 

“They are, thank you.” Niall might have a concussion and he might be here (mostly) against his will, but his mother raised him to be polite.

Zayn helps Niall sink into the chair across from Louis. Niall assumes it’s so he can use the wall to hold himself up. Harry sits beside him, with Zayn at the head of the table and Liam next to Louis. 

As Harry begins uncovering the pots and plates on the table, Louis slides his legs into Liam’s lap asking, “Is this alright, mate?” 

Liam drops one of his hands beneath the table, onto Louis’ shin, Niall presumes. 

“Just keep your shoes on. For all our sakes.” Liam says. 

“Fuck off, Payne,” Louis says. Liam laughs and Louis tries to pull his feet free of Liam’s lap. He gives up when it becomes obvious Liam has got his ankles pinned, which. Is a thing that Liam can do. With his muscley arms. 

Niall clears his throat and says, “Food smells good. What’re we having?” 

“Fajitas,” Harry announces proudly. “With chicken, rice, beans, and homemade guacamole.” 

“Store bought crisps, though,” Louis says. He shakes the bag of crisps. 

“Coming from the guy who burns toast,” Zayn says. He reaches forward to scoop some beans onto the soft tortilla he has spread on his plate. 

Everyone seems to take that as their cue and they begin assembling their own fajitas. Niall joins in just a beat behind, not quite linked up with their telepathy yet. Niall puts his fajita together slowly, unsure how the food will settle with him. He eyes the crisps and guac he has has on his plate and wonders if he should just stick to those. He’s starving, though, and decides _fuck it_ and bites into this fajita. 

“This is fucking delicious,” Niall says around a mouthful of chicken. 

They all laugh and Niall goes a bit pink, like he’s the punchline. 

“They all take my cooking for granted these days,” Harry says. “nice to know they’re just being twats and I haven’t lost my touch.” 

“Nah, your touch is still good babes,” Louis says, a smirk growing on his face. “Really good.” 

“Can the two of you stop it, please?” Zayn says, sighing. 

“Coming from you,” Harry scoffs. Zayn glares at him. Harry swipes a crisp from Niall’s plate despite the fact that bag is _right in front of him_ and doesn’t break eye contact with Zayn as he puts the crisp on his tongue and chews it. 

Zayn raises his eyebrows and relaxes back into his chair, picking up his fajita. He barely glances at Harry when he says, “You tryna earn it, Styles?” 

Harry goes red and starts shoveling food into his mouth. Niall has no fucking clue what’s going on but Liam is rolling his eyes and Louis is perking up and the temperature in the kitchen seems to have gone up. Must be the candles. 

The rest of dinner passes without further incident. Louis tells the story of the bank robbery that afternoon, embellishing all over the place. Niall laughs instead of correcting him, backing him up whenever one of the other boys calls bullshit. It makes Louis beam at him like he’s done something right and Niall quite likes how Louis looks when he smiles like that. 

When they’re done, Liam and Zayn pile the few leftovers onto one plate and put it in the fridge and then pile the dirty dishes in the sink. Zayn comes back to the table and runs his hand through Harry’s fringe, raising his eyebrows when he asks, “A movie, maybe?” 

They all stand up except for Niall, who tries to stand up, but ends up back in his chair as his vision goes a bit swimmy. Harry helps him up after that, wrapping an arm around his waist for support. As they follow the rest of the guys out of the kitchen, Harry leans over and gives Niall a kiss on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” Niall asks. 

“Just felt like it,” Harry says. He shrugs and his eyes are wide, but there’s a flash of something wicked in them and just like that the temperature raises again. And this time Niall can’t blame it on the candles.

  


 

[(x)](http://auspiciousme.tumblr.com)

\----

They make it into the living room just as the debate over which movie they should watch starts up.

“I’m not watching any of the Batman movies again,” Harry jumps right in to say. “I know how much you guys like them, but I’m sick of them.” 

“If you’re overruling Batman, I’m overruling _Love, Actually_ ,” Louis says. 

Harry shrugs. “You like that movie just as much as I do so go ahead.” Louis scowls at him. 

“What about _Thor_?” Liam offers. “We haven’t watched that in a while.” 

All four of them turn to Niall, who is still standing in the doorway with Harry’s arm around his waist. He looks back at them. “Why are you all looking at me? I don’t care. It’s your flat.” 

“Yes, but you’re the _guest_ ,” Harry says, sounding a bit exasperated. 

“Thor’s fine,” Niall says. He doesn’t actually care what they watch, he just wants to sit down before he’s sick all over himself. As delicious as the fajitas were, his stomach is _not_ appreciating them now. 

Zayn turns to put the movie in and Harry helps Niall over to the longer of the two couches that are in the living room. He seats Niall in the middle, on the left side of Liam, who’s already reclined against the cushions. 

Louis seats himself on the shorter of the couches and Harry all but crawls into his lap and sets up camp. Louis’ arms come around him and he whispers something in Harry’s ear that makes Harry bark out a laugh and clap his hand over his mouth. 

The movie starts up and Zayn comes to sit on the other side of Niall. He studies Niall for a second after sitting down and Niall pretends not to notice, but then he says, “Aren’t you supposed to not look at bright, flashy things when you’re concussed?” 

“Is that a rule?” Louis asks. 

“I’m pretty sure Zayn’s right, yeah,” Liam says. He bites his lip and then taps at Niall’s shoulder. “Well, we’re not gonna send you to the spare all alone. You can have a cuddle with me that way you don’t have to look at the screen.” Liam pulls one of the throw pillows into his lap and gestures for Niall to lie down. Niall does, albeit reluctantly. Zayn reaches down and tugs Niall’s legs across his lap. The underside of Liam’s jaw isn’t as interesting as the film would have been (debateable, actually), but it does make Niall’s eyes feel less like he’s been staring at the sun for hours, so he’ll take it. 

He’ll especially take it when Liam starts carding a hand through his hair. 

With the way he’s propped up just a bit on the pillow, Niall has a pretty good view of the other three boys. Zayn is immediately taken with the movie, leaning his elbow on the arm of the couch and his chin in his hand and watching the screen intently. Louis and Harry, though, seem less into it, whispering and giggling to each other where they’re entwined on the other couch. 

“Shut up,” Liam tells them at one point, about a quarter of the way through the movie. 

“Sorry,” Harry says. “Louis’ getting jealous.” 

Zayn snorts and Niall can practically feel Liam rolling his eyes above him. Niall isn’t sure what Harry means by that, but apparently it’s funny to everyone else in the room. 

They go back to watching the film and Niall finds his eyes starting to drift closed. 

“No sleeping,” Liam’s voice rouses him only a few minutes later. Niall opens his eyes to see Liam looking down at him, smile warm. 

“Aw, come on, just a few minutes,” Niall pleads, but he’s mostly joking. He knows he’s not supposed to sleep with a concussion and he’s actually grateful to have these guys looking out for him at this point. If he were at home, he’d be dead to the world by now. And… probably dead for real. He’s only been here for two hours and his feelings have already done a complete 180. He’d blame the concussion, but he’s pretty sure it’s mostly due to how nice and funny these guys actually seem to be. 

“No. Sleeping.” Liam emphasises each word with a gentle poke to Niall’s cheek, making Niall grin. 

The room falls quiet again, just the sound of five boys breathing in and out, in and out. About twenty minutes later, a gentle snoring joins the breathing. 

“You should move him into the bedroom, Lou,” Zayn says. “You know how hard it is to move him once he’s really asleep. Better to do it now, yeah?” 

 

“Harry,” Niall hears Louis whisper. “Hazza, wake up. Gonna get you to bed.” 

Harry mumbles something, but it’s too quiet for Niall to make out over the sound of the fight scene happening on screen. 

“You can have your goodnight kisses later, come on. Upsie daisy.” Niall watches as Louis cajoles Harry into standing and then guides him toward the hallway with a hand at the small of his back. Louis pauses them in the doorway, leaving Harry leaning against the frame as Louis crosses back to stand in front of Liam and Niall. 

“C’mon, Louis, move,” Liam complains. Louis ignores him, crouching down to press his lips close to Niall’s ear and murmur,

“Thor leaves at the end.” 

Niall glares at him and flips him off as he huffs out a laugh and leaves to put Harry to bed. When Niall’s sure they’re gone, he looks up at Liam, tapping his knuckles against Liam’s stomach to get him to look down. “Are they dating?” 

Liam gives Niall a confused look before making eye contact with Zayn. He looks back at Niall and asks slowly, “Why would you say that?” 

“They were all cuddled and loved up over there.” Niall vaguely gestures in the direction of the other couch. 

“Mate,” Liam says and he looks like he might be trying not to laugh, “we’re cuddling right now.” 

“That’s different,” Niall argues, because it is. He’s pretty sure Liam isn’t going to promise him goodnight kisses when they finally get up to go to bed. 

“It really isn’t,” Zayn says, voice laced with something Niall can’t figure out. He tilts his head up to get a better look at Zayn, only to find Zayn looking back at him, brows pulled together. 

“We should probably get you to bed again,” Liam says, effectively cutting any questions Niall might have off. Not that Niall would even know what to ask at this point. 

Niall’s all but useless as Liam and Zayn manhandle him up from the couch, strip him of his trousers, and settle him back in in the spare bed. 

“I’m gonna send Louis in to stay with you,” Liam tells him, “and then I’ll be in in the morning.” 

Niall nods, knowing that they’re not going to leave him alone no matter how much he protests and, honestly? He’d much rather have the company if he’s being forced to be awake. 

The two of them leave and a few minutes later Louis is crawling into bed next to Niall in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. 

“This alright, mate?” Louis asks in the same tone of voice he used on Liam in the kitchen earlier. The kind of tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care if it’s alright; that he’s going to do as he pleases no matter what. 

“‘s fine,” Niall says. “I like cuddling.” 

“Perfect,” Louis says. “I’m aces at cuddling.” 

Niall laughs and Louis burrows himself closer to Niall, tugging the blankets tighter around both of them. 

“So, Niall Horan -- if that is your real name -- tell me about yourself.” 

“It is my real name. I wanted to keep some kind of connection to myself, you know? Flora said she’s seen a lot of people lose themselves in this job. Thought maybe keeping my name would keep me grounded.” 

“Me too,” Louis cuts in to say. “That’s why… Louis Tomlinson is my real name, too.” 

“Figured it was, really,” Niall says. “Figure all of you are using your real names, actually. Except maybe Harry. What kind of name is Harry Styles?” 

Louis laughs. “It’s a rockstar name. It’s his real one, though.” 

“Did he keep it for the same reasons you and I did?” Niall asks. 

“Don’t know. We’ve never really talked about it.” 

“But aren’t you…?” 

“Aren’t we what?” 

Niall feels himself going red under Louis’ sharp gaze. “Aren’t you, like. Together?” 

Louis’ face relaxes and he moves to tuck his nose up against Niall’s collarbone instead of looking at him head on. “It’s complicated, but in a good way. I guess we’re together, yeah.” 

“What does that even mean, Louis?” 

Instead of answering, Louis grows somber. His voice is serious when he says, "I'm sorry I let you get hurt today." 

"Wasn't your fault." 

"I should have stopped you from going through with that dumb plan." 

Niall pulls a mock-hurt face and cranes his neck so Louis can see it. "Don't talk shit about my plan, mate." 

"It almost got you killed! I'll talk all the shit I want." 

"But it didn't," Niall points out. "We're both alive and Flora has what she wants. Win win."

"And that dude who tried to shoot you got arrested." Louis can't seem to keep the glee out of his voice now. "I fucking hated that guy. He's always trying to rob banks that I'm trying to rob." 

"Good to know I helped get him out of your hair. What did Flora say when she found out what happened?" 

"She said it was more public a job than she would have liked, but she’ll forgive us because we somehow managed to get out without a single security camera catching us. And, as it turns out, our good friend the bank manager is notorious for having a terrible memory.” 

“Imagine you’ve got something to do with the camera thing, at least.” 

“You’ve got a good imagination,” Louis says. 

They smile at each other for a moment and then Louis tugs at Niall’s shirt collar so he can bury his face against Niall’s clavicle again. 

“Thank you for not leaving,” Niall says once he’s curled up around Louis. 

“I would never leave a man behind,” Louis says. “I like a good prank, but I know where the line is.” 

“I’m starting to figure that out.” Niall chuckles. 

“Good,” Louis says, “the sooner you figure us out, the better.”

Niall can’t help but feel like there’s a double meaning to Louis’ words that he’s missing. 

They lie there in silence for a few moments and then Louis goes, "We missed a Derby match today. I recorded it, if you want to watch it with me tomorrow?" 

"And have you tell me who's won before the half? Not a chance, bro, I've learned my lesson." 

Louis hums and Niall can't help but feel like he's just failed some kind of test. Before he can dwell on it too long, Louis is saying, 

"Harry said Zayn showed you his sketchbook." 

Niall nods, chin brushing the top of Louis' head. 

"Zayn doesn't show anybody his sketchbook. I haven't even seen his sketchbook and at least ten of my tattoos came out of it." 

"Don't know, all I did was ask to see it." 

Louis hums again, this time more thoughtful than condemning. "Did he show you the sketches of his sisters?" 

"Yeah. And the ones of you guys." 

Niall feels Louis' smile against his collarbone. "He's amazing, isn't he? You should see the drawing he did of my sisters and brother. I have it framed." 

"How many siblings have you got?" Niall asks. 

"Six," Louis says and Niall pulls back to gape at him. Louis laughs and pulls at Niall until they're cuddled up again. "Felicite, Lottie, Daisy, Phoebe, Doris, and Ernest. The last two are still pretty new to the family. I was gone before they were born." 

"That's a lot of sisters. You all have so many sisters. I’ve just got a brother." 

"Got a brother now, too," Louis protests. "Me and you can be in the brothers club together." 

“Too bad we don’t lead normal lives,” Niall muses, “think my nephew Theo and your brother might have been friends." 

"If we lead normal lives we wouldn't be friends," Louis points out. 

"Friends," Niall repeats. "Is that what we are?" 

Louis doesn't answer, just sinks his teeth into Niall's collarbone. He changes the topic, mumbling something about Derby into the join of Niall's shoulder. They whisper about football for a while, Louis' remarks about the team and its management hilarious and witty. He keeps complaining about Niall shaking with laughter, but he keeps making Niall laugh so Niall's pretty sure he's just having him on. 

About an hour or so later, Louis' answers start to come slower, slur a bit more, and he begins nodding off against Niall's chest. 

"'m supposed to stay awake," Louis says, "with you. Can't let you sleep." 

"It's alright," Niall says. "You had a busy day, you deserve some rest. I can stay up." 

Louis giggles sleepily. He pokes a finger into Niall's chest. "Listen to you. All Irish." Niall just laughs. 

A few minutes later, Louis is snoring softly, fingers gripping at Niall's shirt, their legs still tangled together. 

Niall plays the events of the day over and over again in his mind. These guys are alright, actually. They remind Niall of the friends he left behind. Of Bressie and Sean and Laura. They make him miss home, though he's sure there isn't an ounce of Irish blood in any of them. 

He doesn't know how long he lies there, his fingers absently tracing circles on Louis' back, when the door open and Liam comes in. 

"Hey," he whispers. "Still awake, then?" 

"Mhm," Niall hums. He tilts his head to indicate Louis. "He's been asleep for a while now, though." 

Liam rolls his eyes as he comes into the room and shuts the door. "He's meant to be keeping you awake." 

"Useless then, isn't he?" Niall jokes. Liam crosses the room and gestures to the empty space next to Louis. Niall nods, not sure what Liam is asking. He figures it out pretty quickly when Liam rolls Louis so that he's pressed even closer against Niall and slides into the bed on the other side of him. Louis makes a noise of discontentment and Liam makes a soothing noise and runs a hand through his hair, settling him back down. 

"He'll do in a pinch," Liam jokes back. He's squished up against Louis' back and Niall notices the moment when their breathing syncs up. His own breathing, just a beat behind, feels louder in the room than the two of theirs combined. "God, this bed is small. Should've put you in ours, much bigger." 

Niall frowns, puzzled a bit at Liam's words but too tired to really question it. He'll figure it out after his headache goes away and he's had some sleep. Instead he asks, "How did you all end up here? Like, together, I mean." 

"Together?" Liam questions. 

"Yeah, the four of you being friends and living together and stuff. How did that happen?" 

Liam's face falls a little bit and his eyes turn down to focus on Louis. "Don't really know, to be honest. Kind of just happened, as Harry likes to say. Louis and Zayn met on a job in France. On top of the Eiffel Tower, actually. It was pretty romantic based on how they tell it. From there, they found me. Louis and I were trying to rob the same armored truck. We didn't really get on in the beginning, like the two of you, but much, much worse. I thought he was literally chaos on legs. Turns out he's a pretty good lad." 

"And Harry?" 

Liam meets Niall's eye to tell this part of the story. "We got Harry a few months after they got me. He hit on Louis at a party they were both assigned to and things kind of went from there. I put up the biggest fight about coming in. Until now. You're proving quite the challenge, Mr. Horan." 

"So what now? Do you just do jobs for yourselves? Or do you work for someone, like how I work for Flora?" 

"Independent contractors," Liam answers. "Harry stayed under Flora's contract for a little while and Zayn was still aligned with these black market art dealers who had first introduced him to the lifestyle. Eventually, though, they broke off. Started taking jobs the way Louis and I do, for different people as the need arises. Harry likes the freedom and Zayn likes the idea of being able to walk away if he wants. I like that idea, too, if I'm honest." 

Niall nods. It makes sense, breaking away from long-term contracts once you've established enough of a name for yourself. Niall can't imagine doing it yet. Can't imagine striking off on his own and having some kind of solo career. He's not really the solo type, if he's honest. He couldn't do this without Flora talking him through it, making him feel less like a criminal than he actually was. When he'd first signed on, he'd made her promise not to give him any jobs where he would hurt anyone good. He'd steal some art, fine. He'd snag a couple jewels, okay. No killing, no civilian involvement, nothing that would lead to funding something bad. 

"How'd you end up with Flora?" Liam asks. 

"How does anyone end up with Flora?" Niall asks back. "She finds you. Stealing was something I did for fun back in Ireland. I grew up in a small town, there wasn't much else to do. Became a running joke there, really. Anything went missing, they'd show up on my doorstep looking for whatever was gone. I always gave it back, just thought it was fun. 

"Flora found me in Dublin. I would go there sometimes and do some amateur pickpocketing, just to help my family put food on the table, you know? Maybe to buy Christmas presents for my mum. I stole a wallet off one of her bodyguards and she figured it out. I didn't even make it around the corner before her goons were dragging me into an alleyway. She fired that bodyguard and hired me. Well, she didn't hire me that day. It took some convincing. In the end, though, she won me over. Trained me for a year and now I do whatever jobs she has for me. And get concussed along the way, apparently." 

Liam is smiling when Niall finishes his story. "No wonder Louis and Zayn like you so much. They used to pickpocket to help their families, too." 

It makes Niall smile for some reason, being connected to them. It makes him feel a little less alone, sequestered away in the spare room of a flat of four other boys who seem to just _get_ it. They get the loneliness and guilt that come with their line of work, combating it with each other. There's a flare of yearning in Niall's chest; a desire to be a part of something like this.

"Think it might be okay if you sleep now," Liam says. "I'll wake you up every so often to make sure you're not, like, dead or anything." 

"Appreciate it, mate," Niall says. He can feel himself starting to drift off, is glad Liam is there to make sure he doesn't slip into a coma or something. 

"Good night, Niall," Liam says. Niall goes to return the sentiment, but he's already mostly asleep and is pretty sure he just mumbles. Whatever he does, it makes Liam chuckle a bit and that's all Niall remembers before he passes the fuck out.

\----

Niall wakes up with a mouthful of Louis' hair. He opens his eyes, but can't tell what time it is because the room is still dim. He can smell bacon cooking, so he assumes it's still morning. He sits up a little bit, careful not to jostle Louis too much. He's surprised to see Zayn on the other side of Louis now. They're lying facing each other, foreheads all but pressed together as they slumber on. Harry is sleeping folded up in the armchair, arms crossed over his stomach and a blanket over his legs.

Quietly, Niall climbs from the bed and makes his way towards the smells coming from the kitchen. 

"Good morning," Liam greets without turning around. "Is the patient still asleep?" 

"Nope," Niall says, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. "He's wide awake. Woke up to some delicious smelling food and a few new bed partners." 

"Sorry, mate." Liam grins over his shoulder at Niall. "We don't like sleeping apart all that much, to be honest. Do you want me to turn off the light?" 

"Nah," Niall says. “Headache’s pretty much gone. Feel good as new.” 

Liam turns off the hob, grabs two forks, and brings over a plate heaped with scrambled eggs and some bacon. He sets it down on the table and sits in Zayn’s seat from the night before. He hands Niall a fork and they both dig into the mound of eggs. 

“Did you stay up all night?” Niall asks around a mouthful of eggs. 

Liam swallows his bite before answering. “Yeah. Had to keep waking you up. Plus, I was worried about falling off the edge of the bed.” 

“Sorry, mate,” Niall apologises. He finds that he means it. As much as he was practically forced to be here, he doesn’t want to put these boys out. Since yesterday they’ve shown him nothing but kindness and what feels a lot like friendship. “I’m feeling a lot better, though, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to die, so I think I’ll be on my way home soon.” 

“You don’t have to go,” Liam says hurriedly. “You can stay for as long as you’d like.” 

“Thank you,” Niall says, “but I should get back to my own flat.” 

He and Liam finish breakfast in a comfortable silence, breaking it every few minutes to hum a couple of bars from a song for the other one to guess. It’s good, it’s easy. There’s a part of Niall that really, _really_ does not want to go home to his empty flat. But he has to. That’s his _home_ and he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome here. 

The other boys still aren’t awake when Niall leaves. Liam offers to wake them, tells Niall that he’s sure they’d want to say goodbye. Niall declines, though; doesn’t see the need to wake them up for the thirty seconds it will take for them to see him off. 

So Niall goes back home to his own flat and tries not to think about how quiet it is. He’s been gone less than twenty four hours. Twenty four hours isn’t long enough for a place to stop being home.

\----

Flora won’t let Niall go back to work until he gets checked out by an actual doctor so Niall lets her make an appointment for him.

Twenty minutes after the doctor clears him to resume normal activity, Flora is at his door with a manilla envelope. 

“What’s with all the house calls lately?” Niall questions as he lets her in. 

“I came to waste more of your tea,” she tells him, tossing the envelope onto the table. 

Niall fixes her her tea and then sits down at the high top table in the center of his kitchen to read over the contents of the envelope. When he finishes, he puts everything back inside and hands it to Flora. “Good to go.” 

“Excellent,” she says. She’s actually finished her tea and Niall smiles at the sight of her empty cup. “You understand that failure is not an option in this particular situation?” 

“Failure isn’t an option, ever,” Niall counters. 

“Well, yes,” she says, “but especially on this. If he isn’t taken out of the running for office not only will my client be unhappy, but all of Great Britain will be unhappy.” 

“No failing, got it.” 

Flora nods and sees herself out.

\----

There is someone else in the house with Niall. And he doesn't just mean the would-be-Secretary of State for International Development and his wife. He means someone else who doesn't belong there.

He treads carefully down the stairs, wary of any movement in the shadows. He tucks the USB with the information he’d been sent to retrieve into a hidden pocket sewn inside his black jeans. He doesn't really know what he expects, but he really doesn't expect Harry to emerge from the living room and grin up at him from the foot of the staircase. 

"What the fuck, Harry?" Niall whisper yells at him. 

"Hiiiii," Harry drawls out, voice rasping over his whisper. "I missed you." 

“I’ve been gone for less than forty-eight hours,” Niall argues. 

Harry pouts at him. “Yeah, but you left without saying goodbye.” 

The sad look on Harry’s face quells Niall’s anger a bit. “Didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Haven’t heard that one in a while,” Harry says. He laughs at himself, like he’s just made some kind of joke that Niall doesn’t understand. Based on the twenty-two hours that Niall spent with him the other day, this seems like a pretty common occurrence.

“How did you even know I would be here?” Niall demands. 

Harry shushes him and pulls him away from the stairwell and into the dark hallway that leads further into the house. “I called in a favor from Flora.” 

“Flora owed you a favor?” Niall asks disbelievingly. 

“Took care of you, didn’t I?” Harry makes a face resembling a frog at him. 

“No,” Niall corrects, trying not to laugh. “You went to bed. Everyone else took care of me.” 

“Excuse me, Niall. I made you dinner.” 

Niall grins and Harry’s frown deepens, which only makes Niall have to stifle his giggles. 

“Be nice to me,” Harry whines. 

“You say that a lot, mate,” Niall says. “Seriously, though, what are you doing here?” 

“You just got over a concussion, _Niall_ ,” Harry says, “we’re worried about you.” 

“That’s nice of you guys, but I’m fine,” Niall tells him.

Harry shrugs. “You should probably get used to us worrying about you, really. We’re going to do it all the time now.” 

“Please don’t,” Niall says, but he doesn’t mean it. The knowledge that there’s someone out there who worries for him sits somewhere by his heart, beating in time with it. He’s fine on his own, but its nice to not have to be. Turns out Liam was right about that all along. 

“We like you,” Harry goes on. “You’re our friend. Of course we’re going to worry.” 

“Friend?” It slips out before Niall can stop it. 

Harry’s brows furrow and he tilts his head to consider Niall. “Yeah. Or something like that.” 

“Something like that?” 

A noise from upstairs has Harry pinning Niall to the wall in the shadow of the staircase. They’re nose to nose as they listen to whoever it is stumble around in the dark. Harry’s hands drift down Niall’s sides to rest in the waistband of his trousers, his grin turning a bit wolfish when Niall raises his eyebrows at him. 

They stay like that, pressed shoulders to ankles, as the person upstairs slams a door. 

“Just going to the loo, then,” Harry whispers, nuzzling into Niall’s neck a bit. Niall fights to keep from shivering. When Harry pulls back he’s smiling, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Niall. 

Harry’s hands slip beneath Niall’s shirt a bit as the person upstairs flushes and returns to their room. Niall is glad they’re still hiding out in the dark so that Harry can’t see the way Niall’s gone red. 

“That was a close one,” Harry says after a few moments of silence. He drags his fingers out from beneath Niall’s top and Niall doesn’t know if he’s grateful or if he wants Harry to immediately put them back. 

“It wouldn’t have been a close one if you weren’t here,” Niall points out. Harry pouts at him. 

“Heyyy, I’m just being nice,” Harry says. 

“That’s true,” Niall admits. “You’re a very nice lad, Harry Styles.” 

Harry fucking _beams_ at him at that and Niall finds himself smiling back. He reaches down to tangle his hand with Harry and tugs him quickly and quietly out the back door of the house. 

“Come back to ours?” Harry asks as he slips into the getaway car behind Niall. The driver turns to raise his eyebrows at Niall, but doesn’t question him when Niall just tells him to drive. 

“I was there last night,” Niall says. 

Harry just looks at him, a puzzled expression on his face. Niall sighs. Harry laughs delightedly. “We’ll drop this off with Flora and then we’ll go home to the boys, yeah?”

\----

“Niall! Mate, how are you doing?” Liam greets Niall when he and Harry come through the door. “We just ordered some takeaway, you like Indian, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall responds, distracted by Harry, who is pulling at Niall’s jacket. He slides it off of Niall so Niall’s left standing like an idiot in their hallway in just his dark green jumper. “Love Indian food, thanks.” 

“Is that Niall?” Louis’ voice rings through the flat. “Is Niall here?” 

“Hazza brought him home,” Liam shouts in answer. 

"Knew Harry would eventually be good for something," Louis yells back. 

"Be careful," Niall raises his voice to call to Louis. "He might tell you to be nice to him." Zayn and Louis’ laughs both ring through the flat from wherever they are and Liam fights to keep his smile off his face as Harry breaks out in a pout for what feels like the two hundredth time that night. Which wouldn't be a bad thing, except that every time it happens Niall kind of wants to kiss him. 

"I'm moving out," Harry threatens loudly, even as Louis and Zayn emerge in the front hallway. "I'm leaving and never coming back. I'm going to find people who will be nice to me." 

"You would never," Zayn says confidently, pulling Harry into a hug. "You'd miss us too much." 

"Wouldn't," Harry protests, but he's grinning and leaning back into Zayn's touch. 

"One night of sleeping alone and you'd be begging us to take you back," Louis says. He flips his fringe from in front of his face and Niall is caught off guard for a minute, struck a bit breathless but the sharp lines of Louis' cheekbones. Niall's known he was into guys since meeting Bressie a few years ago, but this is ridiculous. He's stumbled into the flat of the four most attractive men in London. (He would say the world, but again. Bressie.) 

Whatever, Niall is used to dealing with beautiful people he can't have. It was part of his training. 

They wrangle Niall into the kitchen, Louis claiming the seat next to Niall as his own this time. Harry doesn't even put up a fight, too busy whispering something to Zayn that causes Zayn to frown and pinch at Harry's hip. Harry bats his hand away, smug as he whispers something that sounds like "jealous." 

Niall has stumbled into the flat of the four weirdest lads in London. 

They dig into the Indian food while Louis demands to know how Niall's mission went. As Niall recounts the tale, Louis' hand comes up to stroke at Niall's head, almost as if he's trying to soothe him of the concussion that isn't there. It's nice. 

After dinner, they ply Niall with alcohol and _Step-brothers_ until it's two in the morning and Niall is too gone and too tired to do anything but accept their offer of the spare room. 

"You don't have to stay in the spare room if you don't want, bro," Harry says and Niall frowns. 

"I can go," he offers. "Really. You guys have already let me intrude once." 

"Not intruding," Liam mumbles from where he's half asleep on Zayn's shoulder. 

They all get slowly to their feet and shuffle down the hall. The spare bedroom is the first door on the right and Niall turns in, thanking them again for the food and the room. They wave him off. 

They continue down the hall and Niall hears another door shut and the quiet murmur of voices through walls. He waits for more doors to close, but the flat falls silent. He frowns and shrugs. For all he knows, they've got bunk beds squirreled away back there. He wouldn't put it past them, honestly. 

Niall doesn't think much more of it, too tired to really care about the sleeping arrangements of anyone else but himself right now. He strips and climbs under the covers, burrowing into the bed. The pillow still smells a bit like him and for some reason that makes him smile.

\----

He wakes the next morning to find Zayn spooned up against his back. Niall only even knows it’s Zayn because of the tattooed arm Zayn has wrapped around his chest.

“Zayn?” Niall mumbles, confused and suffocating a bit. 

“He doesn’t like sharing small beds with anyone but Harry, usually,” Louis says. Niall glances up to see him standing in the doorway holding a mug of tea. “Rest of us drive him mad, he says.” 

“Can’t imagine how that could be,” Niall quips and Louis smiles. 

“C’mon. I’ll make you tea,” Louis says, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. Niall slides carefully out from under Zayn’s arm. He tugs on a shirt as he follows Louis out the door.

“Does he do that a lot then?” Niall asks when he and Louis are in the kitchen. Niall sits up on the workspace next to the hob as Louis heats up more tea. 

“What?” 

“Climb into bed with you guys,” Niall says. 

Louis doesn’t answer for a moment, brows furrowing as he looks first at Niall and then down at the kettle. Niall wonders if he’s said something wrong. 

“Every night,” Louis answers finally, voice quieter than it was. 

Niall laughs, both because he thinks the image of Zayn crawling into bed all, sleepy and cold, is adorable and because imagining Louis kicking at a sleeping Zayn for taking up too much space in his bed is hilarious. 

Louis smiles at him again, soft and fond. He hands Niall a mug of tea. “Do you have any plans for today?” 

“Not really,” Niall says. “Don’t really do much when I’m not working.” 

“We were thinking about going down to the park nearby and having a kickabout. If you wanted to come.” 

“Sounds fun, yeah. I’ll have to stop home and grab clothes…” 

“Nah, it’s fine. You can just borrow something. Between the four of us, I’m sure you can find things that will fit you.” 

Niall scoffs. “Have you seen the size of Liam? No way am I fitting in his clothes, mate.”

Louis looks down at the jumper that he is swimming in pointedly. “They’re pretty comfy, though.” 

Niall laughs as Harry and Liam come into the kitchen. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” Harry says loudly. He pushes his way in between Niall’s legs and wraps his arms around Niall’s waist, burying his face into Niall’s chest. 

“You’re so fucking loud,” Niall complains. He doesn’t mean it, though, weaving the fingers of the hand not holding his tea into Harry’s hair. 

Liam presses himself to Louis’ back, nose nuzzling under Louis’ ear as he reaches around him as he turns the kettle back on. “Is this my jumper, Lou?” 

“Maybe,” Louis hums, hands moving to cover Liam’s where they’ve come to rest against Louis’ waist. “Whatcha gonna do about it, Payno?” 

“Nothing,” Liam says, wrapping Louis up tighter in his arms. “You know I love you in my clothes.” 

“Yeah, because you’re a giant sap,” Louis retorts. 

“Think you’re confusing me with Harry,” Liam says. 

Harry stands up, disentangling Niall’s hands from his hair, to glare at Louis and Liam. “I don’t know why I put up with either of you, honestly.” 

“I can think of a few reasons,” Louis says with a wink. 

“One of which already happened this morning,” Liam adds. 

Louis gasps and half turns in Liam’s arms to glare at him. “Without me?” 

“Woke up and you and Zayn were gone,” Harry explains. Louis’ eyes snap to him and narrow. “Figured the two of you had fucked off somewhere together.” 

“Nah, Zayn ended up in with me,” Niall says. “Tried to suffocate me in my sleep.”

“I didn’t,” Zayn protests, coming into the kitchen. 

“He did,” Niall assures the other three. 

“He does that,” Liam says. “Gets into bed and octupuses himself to whoever is closest.” 

“I like it,” Harry says, moving away from Niall to pull Zayn into him instead. 

“Thanks, Hazza,” Zayn says, smiling. He looks at Louis hopefully. “Tea?” 

“Just finished boiling,” Liam answers instead. He reaches around Louis again to shut off the whistling kettle. Niall opens the cupboard next to his head and pulls out three more mugs. Louis thanks him as he pours tea for the other three. 

They lounge around the kitchen all morning, Niall and Harry tag-teaming to make a fry up for all of them. Zayn, Louis, and Liam sit at the table, complaining loudly of how hungry they are and criticising the way their food is being made. 

Finally, Harry turns to them and shouts, “Get out of my kitchen!” 

Everyone bursts out laughing, including Niall, who doesn’t fully understand the joke, but who is caught up in the joy of the moment; caught up in the joy of being with people that he likes. 

They’re all still laughing and joking even when Niall burns the toast and sets off their smoke detector. Niall laughs harder still, when Liam reaches up to disconnect the alarm, Louis tickling his sides the whole time, while Zayn uses a dishtowel to fan out some of the smoke. 

Louis turns to glare at him once the alarm has been silenced and new bread put in the toaster. Hands on his hips and eyes practically _twinkling_ with mirth, he says, “Well, you’ve gone and let everyone down now, haven’t you, Niall?” 

The laughter grows even louder, until it fills the whole room, Niall laughing the loudest of them all.

\----

Niall didn’t really think having a kickabout with the lads through before agreeing to it. If he’d sat down and thought about it -- maybe made a spreadsheet of pros and cons -- he definitely would not have agreed to come.

The thing about these four boys is that they’re all _fit_. Niall’s known that from day one, but what he didn’t know until today was what they looked like all sweaty and mussed up from running about in a field all day. It’s just a lot all at once, between Louis’ thighs, Liam’s shoulders, Harry’s chest (he’d stripped out of his shirt less than ten minutes in), and Zayn’s face. He’s definitely missed more than one pass because he was too busy staring at one of them. 

It’s just… It’s been a long time where Niall has gotten the chance to appreciate someone for their personality _and_ their level of attractiveness. The job doesn’t exactly make it easy for long-term dating or even short-term. Bar hook-ups and alleyway handjobs are the only ways to go, really. Or doing it yourself, but Niall’s always been more of a team player. 

It’s just been a while and now there are four beautiful boys running around in front of Niall, yelling his name and tackling him to the ground. That would be enough in and of itself, but he also _likes_ them. Somewhere over the weeks of them interrupting every single one of his missions, he’s come to really enjoy spending time with them. Somewhere over the past few days, he’s grown to genuinely like them. Harry had called them friends last night and today, Niall feels like he was right. 

And it’s not like Niall hasn’t had crushes on his friends before. His friends are _awesome_ , they deserve to have people crushing on them. He’s just never had a crush on four of his mates all at once. But it’s fine. He’s dealt with it before and he’ll deal with it now. He’s more than happy just to call these boys his mates. 

“Get your head in the game, Nialler,” Louis shouts as he runs past him. 

“Please stop quoting that movie,” Zayn yells. “It’s not even the right sport!” 

Louis sticks out his tongue and runs backwards across their makeshift pitch, turning around just in time to snag the ball out from underneath Harry. They aren’t really playing with teams, five not particularly ideal for a footy match (though Louis did argue that they should put Niall on Liam and Zayn’s team because it wasn’t like Zayn did anything anyways. Zayn had kicked the ball into Louis’ chest first chance he got.). They were mostly just messing about, laughing and flopping all over the place while Louis dribbled circles around them. 

“Should have been a professional footballer, Lou,” Niall calls out. 

Louis’ grin grows and Niall feels an answering one stretch across his face. 

“Oh, Nialler,” Louis says. “I could kiss you for saying that, I really could.” 

Which. No, Niall is not going to think about that. They’re _friends_ , that’s it. Thinking about kissing Louis is not going to help Niall get over his crush so he’s just… not going to think about it.

“But you won’t.” Harry’s stopped in the middle of the field to glare at Louis, hands on his hips. “We agreed…” 

“Yeah, yeah, Styles,” Louis interrupts. “I know the rules.” 

“For the record,” Zayn chimes in from where he’s now sat on the sidelines, legs crossed, “I still think the rules are dumb.” 

“Wonder why,” Liam teases. He taps gently at Zayn’s knees with the tip of his cleat as he jogs by to go after Louis. 

Niall goes to run past Zayn, but Zayn reaches out and grabs his wrist. 

“What’s up?” Niall asks, a bit breathless from running around. Zayn tugs at his wrist until Niall drops on top of him. Niall laughs, his chest pressed to Zayn’s, and says, “Hi.” 

“Hey.” Zayn smiles up at him and Niall’s heart flutters. He hopes Zayn can’t feel it pounding against his ribcage. “I’m rubbish at football.” 

“You’re not, really,” Niall assures him. “You’re rubbish at the running thing, but you’ve got the strategy part down.” 

“‘ve always been a big picture sort of lad,” Zayn responds, humming thoughtfully. 

“Excuse me, Zayn, are you trying to sabotage my team? Give Niall back,” Louis yells. 

“We’re not even playing with teams, Lou!” Niall shouts in return, having already made himself too comfortable to justify moving off of Zayn’s chest. 

Before Niall can even blink, Louis is tackling into his side, knocking him off of Zayn, Louis lying half on top of both of them. Niall looks up, a smile already starting on his face, but it stops when he sees the serious look on Louis’. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” Louis says, voice quiet. Niall can hear Liam and Harry yelling about something in the background and he’s aware that Zayn is right there, but Louis is all Niall focuses on. 

“Called you what?” 

“Lou,” Louis says. “You’ve never called me that before.” 

Niall feels himself flush and he doesn’t really know why. “Well, like. We’re mates. Mates have nicknames for each other, yeah?” 

Louis rolls so he’s all the way on top of Niall and none of the way on top of Zayn. “I like it. That you call me that.” 

“I like that you call me Nialler,” Niall says honestly. Louis grins and leans down to bite at Niall’s neck. 

“What the fuck, Lou?” Niall demands, pushing at his face to get him away. “Your teeth are fucking sharp.” 

“Knock it off, Louis,” Harry’s voice calls. 

Louis pulls back with a shit-eating grin and rolls off of Niall to lie beside him on the other side, sandwiching Niall between himself and Zayn. “Honestly, Haz, you’ve missed your calling as the official for this football match. You love making the rest of us follow the rules even though I know you break them all the time.” 

“I don’t,” Harry protests and Niall knows he’s pouting without even lifting his head. “Besides, this isn’t a _match_.” 

“What do you say we call it a day, lads?” Liam interrupts their spat. He comes to stand over Niall, looking down at him fondly. Except he’s all sweaty and is pulling up the hem of his shirt to wipe his face and Niall can’t look away, eyes tracking over the tight muscles of Liam’s stomach. 

When Niall does manage to tear his gaze away, it’s to find Harry and Louis both watching him carefully. He watches them meet each other’s eye and have some kind of telepathic conversation. He pushes himself off the ground, not meeting any of their eyes. They all follow him, picking themselves back up and heading back towards the building that houses their flat. 

“Bagsy on first shower,” Louis calls as they hit the steps of the building. 

“Why don’t you let Niall go first?” Harry suggests. He and Louis have another telepathic conversation. 

“Sure.” Louis’ grin can only be described as wolfish. He turns to Niall. “Try not to use up all the hot water, yeah, Nialler?” 

Niall’s pretty sure there’s no chance of that happening after watching the four of them running around and tackling each other. No chance of that at all.

\----

Niall doesn’t know how it happens, but he practically moves in with the boys.

No, that isn’t true. He knows exactly how it happens. It happens in the form of Louis Tomlinson showing up on his doorstep and being insecure on his couch. 

Niall stays over again the night after they play football, but insists on returning to his flat the next morning. He needs a change of clothes and also a _wank_ , Jesus Christ. He’s sure he could get away with having one in their flat, but he’s nervous about getting off in their guest bedroom or bathroom when they’re so prone to walking in unannounced whenever they want. It’s just not a situation Niall is ready to find himself in, especially because one of them walking in would not help make his boner go down _at all_. 

He doesn’t seem them for five days, though he texts them whenever he can. 

On day six of not seeing them, he runs a quick errand in Scotland for Flora and is back in time to order some dinner for himself -- which he does, finally settling down to eat it on the sofa with the telly when there’s a knock on the door. 

“Hey,” Louis says, pushing past Niall and heading straight for the kitchen. 

“What’s up, Lou?” Niall asks, watching while he takes a few bites of take away Niall had left on the counter for when he wanted seconds. 

Louis chews for a minute and then pierces Niall with a look. “Are we good?” he asks. 

“What?”

Louis’ eyes narrow and Niall can’t help but feel like he’s missing something _again_. “You haven’t come over.”

“I came back to my flat for a while,” Niall says.

“I can see that,” Louis says, “but are you coming back?” 

Niall shrugs. “Thought maybe you guys could use a break from me messing up your guest bedroom or whatever.” 

“First of all Niall,” Louis says, voice stern, “we don’t want or need a break from you. Don’t talk shit. Second of all, you don’t have to stay in the guest bedroom if you don’t like, there’s plenty of space down the hall in our room.” 

Niall’s starting to think he should get a look into their bedroom. How big is it that they have at least five beds in it?

“Anyways,” Louis continues, “I just came over to tell you we’re having a Mario Kart tournament tomorrow night. We have a Gamecube so we can all play. It’ll be sick.” 

“Sounds great,” Niall says. “I’ll be there.” He looks at Louis, who looks a bit deflated standing there in his kitchen. “Do you want to stay here for a bit? I have enough food for two and I was about to watch the match from a few days ago.” 

Louis’ face lights up as he turns to grab a plate out of Niall’s cupboard, getting it right on the first try. He scoops food onto it and follows Niall into the living room, sitting closer than necessary on Niall’s large couch. They eat and watch the match with their knees pressed together and elbows knocking because Niall is left-handed and Louis is right and they sat on the wrong side of each other for this to work successfully. Neither of them move to correct it. 

“Liam used to leave a lot,” Louis says quietly while Niall fast forwards through commercials. “He used to go back to his own place for days at a time, we’d barely see him. Worried us sick, honestly.” 

“You and Zayn, you mean?” 

Louis nods. “Liam was… He was like you, but he also wasn’t. He didn’t exactly have the easiest life growing up, though you’d never be able to tell now. We were so afraid that he was just going to leave us or like, never open up to us. We were so afraid of losing him that we ended up buying a flat in the building across the road from him just so we could keep an eye on him...” 

“Nice to know you stalk all your friends,” Niall interjects just to see Louis smile again, which he does. 

“It’s basically our MO at this point,” Louis admits. He shrugs, completely unashamed. “Anyways, once he realized we weren’t going anywhere and that we genuinely did want to be with him it was easy. He sold his flat and moved into ours within the week.” 

“I’m not selling my flat just yet, Louis,” Niall jokes again, mostly because he doesn’t know what to make of this conversation. 

“I know.” Louis smiles wryly. “You’re proving to be quite the challenge. Though I guess we had it easy with Harry. He moved in practically the day we met him.” 

Niall laughs. “Sounds like him.” 

Louis’ smile is fond and a part of Niall is jealous that just _thinking_ of Harry makes Louis go all soft like this. Niall can’t help but want Louis to look like that when he thinks of Niall, too, though he knows that that will never happen. 

Niall walks Louis out a few hours later, finally forced to shut the door in his face when he won’t stop making sure that Niall is really going to come over tomorrow night. 

Through the door, he shouts, “Do you promise you’ll be there? We’re ordering pizza.” 

“I promise.” Niall chuckles. “Especially now that I know there will be pizza.” 

“Good night, Nialler,” Louis says. His voice much quieter, barely making it through the door. 

Niall steps up closer to the door so that Louis can hear him when he says, “Good night, Lou.” 

It’s the last night for a while that Niall sleeps in his own flat.

\----

Niall stops and picks up some beer on his way over to play Mario Kart with the boys. He figures it’s the least he can do seeing as they’re letting him stay the night _again_. He’d woken up to a text from Harry this morning telling him to bring whatever he needed to stay over because Mario Kart tournaments could often go very late, Louis and Liam were very competitive. After he stopped smiling at his phone, Niall had thrown some clothes and his toothbrush into a bag and headed over.

Harry greets Niall at the door, pulling him into a hug. “Louis said you’d come, but we weren’t sure you’d actually show up.” 

“Here I am,” Niall says. He holds up the case of beer. “Brought us something to drink.” 

“Excellent!” Harry exclaims, dragging Niall inside. “Li will be happy. He loves beer.” 

“No, I don’t,” Liam yells. His voice comes from the direction of the back bedroom. “I like vodka and whiskey.” 

“He’d drink this whole case himself.” Harry lowers his voice to confide this to Niall. “Definitely don’t mention any kind of drinking games or that will be all we play tonight.” 

“Stop spreading lies about me, Styles,” Liam says. He launches himself down the hallway to pull Harry into a headlock. 

“You love beer!” Harry protests as he tries to free himself. “‘s nothing to be ashamed of, _Liam_.” 

Zayn comes out of the kitchen as Liam drags Harry towards the living room. He watches them for a second, then turns to Niall, eyes still rolling at his flatmates’ antics. 

“Hi, bro,” Zayn say. “Want some pizza?” 

Niall nods and follows Zayn into the kitchen. Louis is there, sitting on top of the workspace, eating pizza and scrolling through something on his phone. He looks up and grins when he sees Niall, then sticks his pizza in his mouth and types away at his phone with both hands. 

Zayn takes the beers from Niall -- swapping him a slice of pizza for it -- and puts it in the fridge. 

“Stop messaging the group message, Louis,” Zayn says as he crosses back to the table, where Niall and the pizza are. “We’re all home.” 

Niall’s bite of pizza goes stale in his mouth and he struggles to swallow it down. He knows he has no business feeling left out. The four of them have been friends for years, Niall’s only been here a few months. Still, the feeling slides down his throat to sit heavily in his stomach alongside the pizza. He’d thought last night with Louis… but no. He’s still an outsider, a bit. It hurts more than he expected it to. 

“You have some sauce on your face,” Zayn’s comment pulls Niall out of his head. Niall swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and raises his eyebrows at Zayn, who shakes his head. 

Zayn presses his thumb to the corner of Niall’s mouth, the rest of his fingers coming up to rest against Niall’s jaw. Zayn swipes his thumb and removes his hand from Niall’s face, sucking his thumb into his mouth before giving Niall a thumbs up. 

The knot in Niall’s stomach turns to want. 

“Got it,” Zayn says, casual as anything. He grabs two of the pizza boxes and leaves the kitchen. 

Niall stands there for a second, confused out of his mind. He doesn’t even notice that Louis’ gotten down until he claps a hand to Niall’s shoulder. 

“Well,” Louis says. “That was interesting.” 

He doesn’t give Niall chance to respond before he grabs a few beers that were already cold off the top shelf of the fridge and heading toward the living room. 

Niall feels a bit like he just drove off Rainbow Road.

\----

Niall walks into the living room to Louis saying, “All right, lads, break it up. We have a tournament to play.”

Liam, Harry, and Zayn break apart from where they’re tangled up on the floor, laughing and roughhousing. Harry’s hair is all mussed and he shoots Liam a dirty look as he tries to sort it. 

“Tell Zayn we’re not eating pizza in here,” Harry whines at Louis. “Food belongs in the _kitchen_.” 

“But we’re not _in_ the kitchen,” Zayn protests. “We’re in here. It makes no sense to have to get up every time we fancy a slice.” 

“You’re only okay with it because you don’t clean,” Liam says. 

Louis scoffs. “Please, Payno. You’re always trying to tell us that you’re the clean one, but you leave your pants everywhere just like the rest of us.” 

Niall thinks this argument is kind of dumb, really. He eats in his kitchen, the living room, and his bedroom equally. If he spills or gets crumbs everywhere, he just deals with it. Honestly, Niall just wants another slice of pizza, doesn’t matter what room he has to eat it in . This one’s as good as any though, so he plops himself down in the center of the big sofa and takes a slice out of the box. He smiles up at Harry as he sticks it into his mouth and chews. Louis grins victoriously. 

“That’s settled then,” Louis says, grabbing a slice of pizza for himself and settling down on one of the arms of the sofa. 

“If he’s going to take your side all the time, I change my mind about the plan,” Harry grumbles. 

“I remember when you used to take my side all the time.” Louis chews his pizza, looking past Harry with a thoughtful expression. 

“That was before I figured out you’re fucking mad,” Harry says, taking a seat on the couch next to Niall. Zayn sits in between Niall and Louis, leaving Liam the other arm. 

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Liam says. “You knew he was mad just as much as the rest of us.” 

“That’s right.” Louis beams. “And if you don’t like it, you can leave the band.” 

“Can we play please?” Zayn asks in a voice that suggests he’s more than used to fights like this. 

The game is all set up so they each grab a controller and dive in. 

“Fuck you, Lou,” Zayn says, “you know I’m always Yoshi.” 

Niall cackles as he picks Toad. Zayn ends up as Daisy, Liam as Donkey Kong, and Harry plays as Mario. 

Not long into the game, Niall figures out that Louis’ strategy for winning is to cheat like a motherfucker. He bounces from boy to boy, knocking into them and standing in the way of their view of the TV. Liam and Zayn are getting pissed, both of their brows furrowed in anger, though Zayn is trying to hide it better. Their anger just seems to fuel Louis, honestly. Harry and Niall just keep laughing. Louis is _hilarious_ , Niall loves it. 

They swear and shout their way through the first grand prix, downing their beers quickly in between races so they don’t turn warm. (“No drinking and driving,” Harry quips. They all groan and Niall pushes his cart off the track.)

In the end, Zayn manages to take first place by just a few points, Louis sliding in right behind him. Louis’ all over him immediately, cursing him and having a proper strop. Niall finished in third place, landing him a solid place on the podium and he’s pleased with it. 

“Good job, mate,” Liam leans over to say. Harry has his arms crossed and is sulking right along with Mario from fifth place. Niall smiles. 

“Why are you so happy?” Harry demands. “You got third.” 

“Actually, there’s, like, a study that says the people who get third are happier than the people who get second,” Zayn says. He gives Louis, who is sitting on him and pinning his hands, a pointed look. 

“Niall’s always happy, though,” Louis says. “Most excitable lad I know. Comin’ in third’s got nothing to do with it.” 

“I’d be happier if we broke out more beer and I got to have more pizza,” Niall says. 

Zayn frees one of his hands from Louis and leans over to poke Niall in the face. “Cheeky.” 

Liam stands and pulls Louis off of Zayn’s lap. “C’mon, Lou, let’s grab more beers.” They disappear towards the kitchen, laughing. 

“I’m gonna use the loo,” Niall says, “Don’t eat all the pizza while I’m gone.” 

“No promises!” Harry shouts once Niall’s in the hall. Niall shakes his head and chuckles. 

As he watches his hands in the bathroom, he studies himself in the mirror. He looks happy in a way that he hasn’t for a while. So much so that even Flora had commented on it. Even as he’s thinking that, his grin grows. These guys are pretty special, Niall has to admit. He’s never felt such a strong connection so fast with someone and now he’s got it with four other people.  
He doesn’t know what it is exactly, but he knows he wants to keep them. More than that, even, he wants them to want to keep _him_. 

He dries his hands and starts back towards the living room. He can hear Louis and Liam talking in the kitchen, voices too quiet to understand, and decides to pop in and see if they need some help. He stops into the doorway and freezes. Liam has Louis crowded up against the workspace by the fridge, the beers on the surface in front of Louis. 

From this angle, Niall can see the way Liam’s crotch is pressed up against Louis’ arse, can see the way Louis is gripping the counter tight enough that his knuckles are white, can see the way Louis is working his hips in little circles as Liam’s fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Lou, we have a guest,” Liam says, voice rougher than it was earlier. A shockwave of heat runs down Niall’s spine as he realizes that this is what Liam sounds like when he’s turned on. 

“C’mon Li,” Louis teases, “you’ve been half-hard all night.” 

“Did you see him playing Mario Kart?” Liam practically groans, hands readjusting on Louis’ hips to pull him in tighter. “He kept biting his lips and, Christ, his forearms.” 

This is absolutely not something Niall should be listening to. This is none of his business. This conversation is one hundred per cent not for his ears. He takes quick but quiet steps away from the kitchen and heads back to the living room, trying to school his face into something neutral. 

He knows Louis said things between him and Harry are complicated but Niall didn’t realize that _Liam_ was that complication. Jesus. He didn’t think Liam the type, honestly, to mess about with a mate when he knows how his other mate feels about him. 

“Alright, Niall?” Zayn asks. He pats the spot beside him on the couch. Harry has taken Louis’ place on Zayn’s lap, head tucked down against Zayn’s neck. 

“All good,” Niall says. Zayn’s eyebrows go up and Niall’s always been a terrible liar when it came to real things. On the job, he’s cool as anything. Right now, he feels like he could potentially drown in his own sweat. 

Louis and Liam come back into the room then with more beer and everything feels normal except for Niall, who can’t unsee what he saw in the kitchen. He pays close attention to how Louis interacts with both Liam and Harry, but nothing seems different. He comes in dead last in their next match because he’s too distracted watching Louis tickle Harry to watch the screen. He doesn’t fair much better in the second when Louis plays the entire round practically on top of Liam. 

He manages to come in first in the third race, but that’s only because he doesn’t notice Louis sucking a mark onto Zayn’s neck until it’s already over and, what the fuck? Does Louis have no shame? Harry is _right there_ and just because he doesn’t seem to be paying attention doesn’t mean Louis should be able to get away with this kind of behavior. Niall looks over to see if Harry is watching Louis and Zayn, but he’s too busy cuddling up to Liam. Niall feels a bit sick to his stomach knowing what he knows. 

“Think I’m going to maybe turn in, lads,” Niall says. 

“It’s barely half eleven,” Louis protests. 

Niall shrugs. “Not really feeling well.”

“Is it still your concussion?” Harry asks, looking at Niall with a very serious expression. 

“No,” Niall assures him. “Just not feeling like myself.” 

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Liam offers. 

“‘m good. You guys stay and play some more if you want.” 

“No fun without you,” Harry says. 

Niall gives him a weak smile before pushing himself up from the sofa and heading to the guest room. He strips down to his boxers and climbs between the sheets. He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling, listening to the boys murmuring in the other room. It takes him forever to fall asleep. He can’t stop thinking about how Harry’s going to find out about Louis and Liam or Louis or Zayn or _whatever_ and how everything is going to be ruined. 

He can’t stop thinking about how he’s only just found this family and how he’s not ready for it to fall apart.

\----

Living with the boys is great, for the most part. There’s still this weird tension between them and with Niall and Niall knows that Louis’ picked up on it because he keeps throwing Niall these weird looks. Niall tries his best not to be alone with Louis in a room too long because Niall doesn’t do confrontation and Louis looks like he’s the type of person who fucking loves it.

Then there’s also the fact that it’s a flat occupied by five boys. It’s almost always loud, almost always a mess, and almost always stocked with enough beer to fill a swimming pool. 

Besides the weird stuff going on between all of them, it’s perfect. Niall imagines this is a bit what living at uni would feel like if he hadn’t chosen a life of crime instead. Sometimes, he thinks about how he would explain this to his Mum and Da. How he would tell them that he’s moved in with these four strangers and that sometimes things are confusing as fuck, but otherwise it’s amazing. It’s everything Niall wants. He always stops himself from thinking about it too much. It’s easier not to think about his Mum and Da, really. Not if he can help it. 

Niall wakes up with at least two of them in his bed every morning now. Zayn comes in the most often, but Niall likes it best when Liam comes in with him because Liam is bigger than Niall and is always the big spoon. Harry likes to be the little spoon, which is fine by Niall, but sometimes he wants to be the little spoon, too. Louis kicks in his sleep which would drive Niall crazy if it wasn’t also so endearing. 

He doesn’t know why they keep creeping into the tiny bed in the spare room when they have their own beds down the hall, but he likes it too much to ask them about it in case they decide to stop. 

Sharing a bed with them doesn’t do anything for his crushes though. Living with them has only made Niall like them more. 

It’s driving him a bit mad, really. The way Zayn takes a drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out of the window is obscene. Harry, on a good day, wanders about in just his pants, hip bones looking absolutely delicious where they protrude over the waistband. Louis in the mornings is probably the sexiest thing Niall has seen. His hair goes all flat during the night and he pouts until he’s had at least two cups of tea and Niall wants to both kiss him and blow him when he gets like that. Liam goes to the gym down the street religiously and he comes back all sweaty and oozing testosterone. Niall doesn’t know how straight boys don’t drop to their knees at the sight of a sweaty Liam, let alone how he’s stopped himself from doing it for the past week and a half. 

“We should go out tonight,” Harry suggests over dinner twelve days after Niall’s all but moved in with them. Harry’s still all dressed up from a meeting he had with the Turkish ambassador’s son this morning where he used him to steal a copy of his father’s hard drive. His hair is arranged artfully, with a deep side part. His black button down is sheer and unbuttoned to nearly his belly button. Niall had watched him pour himself into the tight black jeans he has on and while it was _hilarious_ watching Harry hop and skip about the living room trying to get them over his thighs, there was nothing funny about them once they were on. Harry’s legs were so fucking long. He looks really good is Niall’s point and Niall can’t stop staring at him. 

“Where do you want to go?” Liam asks. 

Harry shrugs. “Kind of in the mood to dance and get absolutely smashed.”

“There’s that new club by our old flat,” Zayn says, looking at Louis. 

“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” Louis says. “Sure, why not?” 

All four of them turn to look at Niall, who smiles and says, “Up the lads!” 

They all burst into laughter and cheers. 

After they’ve finished their dinner and cleaned up (“clean” has become a relative term, honestly. They should just hire out a company to clean it the way that Niall did when he actually lived in his own flat.), they disappear to get ready for the night. 

Niall isn’t sure what the dress code for this club is so he plays it safe: a pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with a an old denim jacket he’s cut the sleeves off over it, and his white supras. He does his hair up quickly; scooping wax out onto his fingers and running it through the front strands a few times so they stand up straight. 

“You ready?” Liam asks, poking his head into Niall’s room. The guest room. Not Niall’s room. Jesus. 

“Let’s go!” Niall exclaims, pocketing his wallet and mobile. 

Liam gives him a huge smile and they walk into the living room where the other boys are already waiting. They all look. They look like a _lot_ , is the only way Niall can put it. Liam’s wearing loose black jeans with a black mesh football jersey over a white vest. He’s got a backwards snapback on. He looks a bit like a douchebag and Niall would be lying if he said he wasn’t into it. Louis’ in all black everything, trousers hugging his thighs like a dream, with white trainers on. Zayn’s got on a cool black and white patterned shirt with black jeans and black shoes. He’s left his hair flat, sweeping it a bit to the side. Niall wants to run his fingers through it and see if it’s as soft as it looks. 

Harry looks him up and down. “You look really good, Niall.” 

“Yeah, mate,” Zayn says. “Really hot.” 

“Thanks,” Niall says, blushing. 

“You on the pull tonight, bro?” Louis asks. He’s not looking at Niall when he asks and his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t particularly care what Niall’s answer is. 

“Nah,” Niall says. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, honestly. “I mean, I wouldn’t turn it down, but I’m looking forward to just having a lads’ night out. Are you all pulling?” 

“I’m always on the pull,” Harry says. He leans over and nudges his hip into Louis’, who glares at him. 

Niall laughs awkwardly instead of blurting out what he suspects about Louis and Liam. This isn’t the time or place. Besides, it isn’t his business to tell Harry, that’s on Louis. 

When they get to the club, they’re let in immediately and escorted to the VIP lounge. There’s champagne chilling at the table and a server there to take their order to the bar for them. 

“This is sick!” Niall says, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the music. 

“Might’ve called ahead,” Liam responds. “Only the best for you.” Niall’s pretty sure the thing Liam just did with his face was him trying to wink. 

They finish the champagne in no time and down a few shots and two pints each before deciding to hit the dance floor. Zayn steadfastly refuses to dance, insisting that he’ll stay here and watch the table. 

“No,” he says, pulling his arm out of Harry’s grip. “The last time I agreed to dance with all of you you left me on the floor by myself.” 

Louis leans over and whispers something in Zayn’s ear even as Harry continues to tug on Zayn’s arm. Niall watches Zayn’s eyes widen and snap to him. It’s probably a trick of the light, but Niall swears he sees Zayn’s eyes darken as he looks him up and down. Niall squirms under Zayn’s gaze, feeling himself grow hot. Zayn stands up, throwing Harry off balance, and makes his way to Niall. 

“Let’s dance,” he says, voice low. He grabs Niall’s wrist and tugs him out of the VIP section and into the the throng of people. Normally, Niall would hate how crowded it is, but tonight all he can think about is the way Zayn’s fingers are pressing into his wrist and the heat of Harry pressing up against his back as he follows them to the floor. 

The five of them dance together for a while, forming their own little circle amongst the crowd. It gives Niall space to breathe, space to laugh into while they shimmy and shake like drunken arseholes. Niall can’t remember the last time he had this much fun in a club. He’s only been using them to pull the last year or so and he rarely went even then. 

Eventually, Zayn grabs Louis’ hand, nodding away from the dance floor and saying something too quietly for Niall to hear over the bass. Niall feels his heart skip a beat over the music as this thoughts drunkenly slide to what a pretty picture Louis and Zayn make together; how sharp and angular Zayn’s whole body is, at how small Louis sometimes seems but how he commands a room completely, a subtle strength to him. Niall peels his eyes away from them as they turn and leave the group, feeling instantly guilty at finding the idea of the two of them together so hot when Harry and Louis were whatever they were supposed to be. Niall isn’t really sure what that is anymore, to be honest. 

With the other two gone, Liam and Harry close in on Niall, both of their eyes gleaming up the strobe lights. Liam drapes his arms over Niall’s shoulders, one of his thighs slipping in between both of Niall’s, their hips lining up as Liam looks at him from under his lashes. Harry presses up against Niall’s back, the zip of his flies digging into Niall’s arse a bit, which gets Niall thinking about what’s underneath the zip and how that’s pressing up against him, too. He needs to take about six deep breaths, but can’t find the air to, sandwiched between Liam and Harry the way that he is. 

As if their proximity alone wasn’t bad enough, the two of them manage to find a sense of rhythm for the first time all night. They circle their hips in tandem, Harry’s hips pushing him forward against Liam’s thigh in perfect time for Liam’s hips to push him back against Harry’s dick. Niall gasps as Liam steps in even closer, the friction on his dick from Liam’s thigh so fucking good. 

He feels Harry nose at the hair at the base of his neck, tilting his head forward to give Harry more space without even thinking about it. His own body reacting seamlessly with theirs and Niall tries not to think about how natural it feels to be caught up in between the two of them like this. He spares a passing thought for Louis and Zayn and how he kind of wishes they were here, too, before getting distracted by Liam’s lips latching onto the bit of Niall’s collarbone that isn’t hidden under his shirt. 

Niall gasps. It’s all so much: the heat of the club, the way it feels having Harry and Liam’s hips rolling up against him, the way his cock is starting to get hard in his jeans. He needs to excuse himself before this gets embarrassing. Harry and Liam are just dancing drunkenly with their mate, it’s Niall who is making this into something more. Niall is the one with the crushes. 

“Need the loo,” he manages to say as he slips out from his place between Harry and Liam. 

“We’ll come with you,” Harry offers. His eyes are dark and the way he’s biting his lip makes Niall think -- briefly -- if Harry means it in a different way. Or maybe he’s just projecting. 

“Nah, it’s good, mate,” Niall says. “Stay here and dance with Li.” 

They don’t go back to dancing the way that Niall expects them too, instead they stand there in the middle of the floor watching him as he weaves his way towards the restrooms. 

“Weirdos,” Niall mutters to himself as he breaks free of the crowd. 

There’s no line for the loo, which should have been Niall’s first clue, honestly. 

He pushes open the door to the sound of groaning and gasping and he’s just about to turn around and close the door firmly behind him when he hears a voice that is definitely Louis’ moaning out a name that is definitely Zayn’s. 

Niall takes a slight step backward. He knows he should leave, should get the _fuck_ out of here before he sees something he can’t unsee, but arousal rockets through him, all but freezing him where he stands. It would happen to anyone, honestly. There’s the slick sounds of hands on dicks and the loud sounds of Louis and Zayn panting as they work to get each other off. It’s like listening to a porno. No one can blame Niall for getting a little bit turned on. 

Before he can do anything, the door opens behind him. Niall turns, flushing red at the thought of being caught out listening to his mates getting off together in the loo of some club. Liam doesn’t spare him more than a passing glance, however, as he grabs for Niall’s wrist and says, “Sorry, bros, you’re going to have to finish this later, we’re about to be compromised.” 

Niall isn’t sure how Louis manages to do up his trousers and get out of the stall as fast as he does, but before Niall can even look away from Liam or ask what he means by that, Louis is strolling out. 

“How? Where’s Harry? Give me some fucking details,” Louis snaps all in one breath. 

“Remember Janet Holt from that wire fraud operation we did a while back? She’s here. With some very nasty looking body guards.” 

“Guess Mummy and Daddy don’t trust their precious baby out on her own anymore.” Louis rolls his eyes, washing his hands at the sink. “Any chance of getting out the front?” 

“No,” Liam says, “but we’re good to go out the back it looks like. There is a problem though.” 

“What is it?” Zayn asks, coming out of the stall. He looks a bit more mussed than Louis, hair an absolute mess and a love bite blossoming on his neck. Niall spares a stray thought to how Zayn thinks he’ll be able to hide that from Harry before tuning back into the situation at hand. 

“She recognized Harry.” 

Louis and Zayn both freeze, eyes open almost comically wide as they stare at Liam. 

“Where is he?” Louis bursts out. “Liam, where the fuck is Harry?” 

“He’s distracting Janet,” Liam answers. “She still has no idea he was involved in her dad losing millions of dollars. The rest of us, though? There’s no way she wouldn’t recognize us.” 

“We need to get Harry out of there,” Zayn says. “We can’t just leave him here to fend for himself. It’ll just take one wrong word and her bodyguards will be all over him.” 

“Could we take them?” Louis demands, eyes sharp on Liam. “Be real with me right now, Li, could we take them?” 

Liam closes his eyes and thinks for a second. When he opens his eyes, he shakes his head. Niall watches Louis’ face fall. 

“What about me?” Niall asks. “She wouldn’t recognize me.” 

“Neil, you’re a fucking genius,” Louis says, relief coloring his exclamation. Louis crosses the small bathroom to grab Niall by the shoulders, looking him straight on. “You need to be very careful, alright? These are extremely dangerous people and they won’t hesitate to hurt you or Harry if they think you’re involved with us. All you need to do is figure out a way to get Harry out of this fucking club. We'll meet you back at the flat, we should be safe there." 

"Be safe," Liam says. He leans in and gives Niall a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"Come home to us," Louis says, "and bring the curly headed one with you." He kisses Niall on the cheek as well before releasing his shoulders and stepping closer to Liam. 

Zayn comes forward to him then. "We'll be waiting for you. Call us if you need us, yeah, bro?" Niall nods. Zayn reaches out and pokes him twice in the chest and once right above his belly button. He steps in to kiss Niall's cheek and then joins the other two where they're pressed up against the door, listening. 

"Now or never, lads," Zayn says to them quietly. As a unit, they all look back over their shoulders at Niall one last time and then they're gone. 

Niall waits until he gets a text from Liam telling him they're a safe distance away and emerges from the loo to find Harry. 

It isn't hard, honestly. He's standing by the bar, holding court with a girl who must be Janet and a few of her friends. Niall watches as Harry flips his hair. To them, it probably looks flirtatious, but Niall can see how tense Harry is as he shakes out his long curls. He needs to get Harry out of there, needs to get him home. So he does the only thing he can think of to do.

“Hey, babe,” Niall says, adopting an English accent. He steps up beside Harry and slides one of his arms around Harry’s waist. “Who’s this?” 

If Harry is surprised by Niall’s behavior, he doesn’t let it show at all. “This is Janet,” Harry responds. He throws his arm over Niall’s shoulder and pulls him in closer to his side. “She’s an old friend. Old girlfriend, actually. Janet, this is my boyfriend, Alexander.”

It’s rare that Niall gets to see Harry at work. He sees Louis pick the lock on the bathroom almost on the daily, he knows how good Louis is at what he does. Zayn’s artwork lines the hallways of the flat and there’s one hanging in the guest room now that Niall is living there. It’s literally impossible to forget how amazing Zayn is at his job. He doesn’t get to see Liam at work all that often, but Liam likes to walk around without a shirt on, showing off his disgustingly muscular body so Niall can guess that he’s pretty decent at disarming the guards on the trucks he’s targeting. 

Harry, though. Harry is always charming and smiling and… just Harry. Niall’s never really seen the way that translates over into a mission, but he’s seeing it firsthand now. And Harry is fucking _ace_ at his job. 

Janet’s smile goes tight when she sees the way that Niall is curled into Harry’s body. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Niall says. “Are you having a nice time?” 

“I _was_ ,” Janet answers. Niall resists the urge to roll his eyes. His job is to get Harry out of here, not get into a passive aggressive competition with one of his exes. Janet goes on, eyes on Harry. “You should join us. We have a table over in the VIP section.” 

“I don’t know…” Niall says, looking at Harry. “We should probably be getting home. You have work tomorrow morning.” 

“I insist, really,” Janet says before Harry can respond. “A few more drinks won’t hurt, I’m sure.” 

“Sounds nice,” Harry says and that’s that. Niall finds himself being dragged back into the VIP lounge, hand linked with Harry’s. They sit at the table that Janet indicates, Harry sitting himself in Niall’s lap. His thigh is jiggling against Niall’s, the only indicator that he’s at all uncomfortable with the situation. Niall wonders why they didn’t just leave when he gave them the out. 

They spend another hour at Janet’s VIP table, drinking only enough to keep Janet and her friends from getting suspicious. Janet flirts shamelessly with Harry all night, telling stories about their “star-crossed love” to her friends loud enough for Niall to overhear. 

“As your boyfriend,” Niall whispers to Harry, lips brushing his ear, “is it appropriate for me to just punch her in the face?” 

Harry chuckles, but shakes his head. Niall swears. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. “She’s literally talking about the two of you going to Spain together while I’m sitting _right here_. I’m a jealous twat, Haz, I don’t want to hear about you and her sunbathing on a nude beach.”

“Such a good boyfriend, you are,” Harry says. He turns so he can lean his forehead against Niall’s. To an outsider, it looks like a drunkenly intimate gesture, out of place in the loud and sweaty club. What it does is allow Harry to look Niall dead in the eyes when he says, “We’re going to have to sneak out. I saw one of her bodyguards eyeing me earlier. She may not suspect me as an accomplice to the scheme that nearly left her penniless, but that doesn’t mean everyone else thinks I’m so innocent.” 

“I take it going to the loo together and sneaking out the back way from there is out of the question?” 

Harry nods. “We need a plan.” 

“Luckily, your boyfriend is quite the plan man,” Niall tells him. Harry grins at him and Niall’s heart beats a little bit faster. It’s been almost too easy to pretend to be Harry’s boyfriend for the past hour. Part of that is probably due to how well Harry plays the part, but Niall can’t think about how instinctual it is, being Harry’s boyfriend. He tells that part of his brain to shut the fuck up, he needs to get himself and Harry out of here. He thinks for a second and then murmurs, “Follow my lead.” 

Niall nudges Harry so he stands and then Niall gets out of his seat as well. Janet’s eyes immediately snap to them. She smiles, overly-sweet, and asks, “Leaving so soon?” 

“Not just yet,” Niall answers. “Figured we’d get a little more dancing in before we left.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Janet says without hesitation. She’s standing up before Niall can even blink, two of her friends standing with her. “Don’t want to waste the night.” 

The five of them make their way to the dance floor and the difference between now and a couple of hours ago when it was him and Harry and Liam, Zayn, and Louis is so stark Niall can almost taste it. Earlier, Niall had let himself get swept up with being there with them, with being trapped between Harry and Liam. Now, Niall just wants to go the fuck _home_. 

They find a spot towards the bar, which means they’re also near the hallway that leads to the loos and the back exit. Niall may or may not have done that on purpose. He turns and puts his hands on Harry’s waist, Harry’s coming up to rest on his shoulders like Liam’s had done earlier that night. 

“Wait for my signal,” Niall says, voice all but getting lost in the music, “and then get the fuck out the back. Keep going, I’ll catch up.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” Harry protests. He steps in even closer and tightens his arms. 

“Yes, you are,” Niall tells him. “I promise I will be right behind you, okay? This is the best way to get you out of here.” 

“Us,” Harry corrects. “Get _us_ out of here.” 

“Whatever,” Niall says. “When I tell you to go, you go, alright?” 

“Please be careful,” Harry says. Niall can see it in his face that he wants to protest more, but that he’s trusting Niall to get them both out of here safely. Niall hopes he can follow through. 

“Always careful.” Niall smiles. “Thought you guys said you did your research.” 

Harry throws his head back and laughs then. 

Niall glances around the dance floor, waiting for his opportunity. There isn’t one just yet so he asks Harry something he’s been wondering since Liam had burst into the loo. 

“Why did you stay?” he asks, eyes locked on Harry’s in the flashing lights. “When you and Liam realized it was Janet, why didn’t you just leave with him?” 

Harry shrugs. “Had to protect you guys, didn’t I? If they’d caught sight of Liam or Louis or Zayn, they would not have been leaving here tonight without some serious injury or worse, you know? I knew Janet still had feelings for me and while I feel like shit for using her feelings against her, I had to protect them. I love them.” 

Niall takes one of his hands off of Harry’s waist and brushes his hair away from his face, letting his fingers trail down Harry’s neck without even thinking about it. “You’re really brave, Harry Styles.” 

Harry fucking beams at him and Niall can’t help but smile back. That’s also when his perfect opportunity arises. 

“I’ll see you at home,” he promises Harry. Harry nods and Niall takes a step back from him, dancing like a crazy person (a bit like Harry when he’s not dancing with someone, actually). He slams into three burly guys behind him, spilling one of their drinks all over them. He should probably be more nervous than he is when he turns around to confront them, they’re bigger than Liam is even, Jesus. 

“Sorry, mate!” Niall yells over the music. “Guess you should watch where you’re going, yeah?” 

“Or maybe you should fucking watch yourself, _mate_ ,” the guy with drink all over his front responds. 

“Let me buy you another,” Niall offers. He puts his hand on the guy’s arm, already knowing how he’ll take that. 

“Get the _fuck_ off me!” The guy jerks out of Niall’s grip. 

“Aw, c’mon, mate, don’t be like that,” Niall says, going in to touch him again. 

“If you touch me one more time…” 

Niall smirks at him and leans in to poke him in the chest. “What are you going to do about it, big guy?” 

A muscle in the guy’s jaw jumps and Niall barely has time to brace himself before the guy is launching himself at Niall. The force of impact throws Niall backwards into Janet. The jerk’s friends join in as well, because God forbid they mind their own fucking business. Niall maneuvers it so that Janet is caught in the middle of the fray, knowing that it will make her bodyguards freak out and take their attention off of Harry. 

Over the head of the douchebag who is currently trying to take Niall to the ground over Janet’s screaming form, Niall watches Harry slip through the crowd towards the hallway. Good, that’s sorted then. 

One of the jerk’s friends manages to land a punch to Niall’s face and he feels his cheek starting to bruise already. That’s going to hurt like a bitch when the adrenaline drains from his system. 

As predicted, Janet’s bodyguards are on them in seconds to break up the fight and get her to safety. Niall pushes past the guard that reaches for him, saying something about grabbing some ice before weaving his way through the crowd and exiting the club through the front door. He immediately turns and runs down the street, doing his best to keep his breathing even and path straight despite the alcohol he’s had. He makes it a couple of blocks and then hops in a cab, telling it to take him the long way around to the guy’s flat. 

He whips out his mobile once the cab starts moving. He has thirty text messages from Louis, Zayn, and Liam, all asking if everything’s okay. Niall sighs and makes a mental note to remind them that texting someone to ask if they’re alright when they’re on a _mission_ is a really fucking stupid thing to do. 

Niall ignores the fact that he’s breaking his own rule when he opens a text to Harry and types: _miss you already babe_. He worries his lower lip with his teeth while he waits for a response. 

It comes less than a minute later (one of the longest minutes of Niall’s life honestly). 

[from.Harry S.] 1:34am  
>see you at home darling x

Niall breathes out a deep sigh of relief and rests his throbbing cheek against the cool window of the taxi all the way back to the flat.

\----

By the time the taxi pulls up to the flat, Niall’s more than a bit angry, actually. He sees Liam waiting for him outside of the flat and his anger notches up another level.

Liam pays the driver as Niall climbs out of the back. As the taxi pulls away, Liam envelops Niall in a bear hug. “Harry got home a few minutes ago,” he says in Niall’s ear. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re both safe.” 

He must be able to tell that something is wrong, because he has a puzzled look on his face when he steps away from Niall. “Everything alright, bro?” he asks. 

“No,” Niall practically spits. “Everything is not alright, bro.” It takes a lot to get Niall angry, that’s how it’s always been. He’s not a confrontational guy. He’s more likely to ignore a problem or laugh his way through it until it’s solved or it goes away. But tonight he’s pissed. Because Harry could have been seriously hurt. “Harry could have gotten killed trying to protect you guys and he doesn’t even know how much you don’t deserve it.” 

“What do you mean?” Liam asks. He looks completely perplexed, eyes wide and full of concern. If Niall hadn’t seen Liam betraying Harry with Louis with his own two eyes, he may have believed that Liam was innocent in all of this. But he wasn’t. And tonight Harry had put himself at risk to protect people who were supposed to be his friends; people that didn’t deserve his protection. 

“I _mean_ ,” Niall practically spits, “that tonight Harry protected all of you by staying in that bar while his boyfriend was off in the loo doing God knows what with someone Harry considers his best friend. He protected _you_ even though you were practically coming in your pants in the kitchen with Louis the night of the Mario Kart tournament. He protected Louis, his fucking boyfriend, not knowing that he’s been sleeping around behind his back this whole time. He protected _all of you_.” 

Liam looks stunned. He looks absolutely blown away and Niall can’t tell if it’s because he’s being called out on fucking Louis behind Harry’s back or because he’s never heard Niall yell. “It’s not like that,” he protests. “Niall, you don’t understand…” 

“You’re right, I don’t!” Niall interrupts. “The four of you are supposed to be best mates or a family or whatever, and you go around doing this to each other. It isn’t fair and I can’t be a part of it, Liam. I can’t lie to Harry the way the rest of you are. He saved your _lives_ tonight.” 

“Niall, please,” Liam pleads. “Come inside. Let us explain.We’ll tell you everything, I promise.” 

“No,” Niall tells him. “I don’t want to come in. I think I need to go home and cool down before I end up punching something, honestly.” 

With that, Niall turns and heads up the street in the direction of the closest tube station. Liam doesn’t come after him and when Niall looks back, he’s already gone inside.

\----

It’s a week before Niall sees any of them again. He misses them -- a lot, if he’s being honest -- but he doesn’t want to lie to Harry, doesn’t want to see Harry get hurt. It’s best for everybody if he just stays away and lets them sort their shit out on their own.

He walks into the Aberdeen Art Gallery and Harry’s already waiting for him. He scares Niall half to death -- he’d almost gotten used to his solo missions actually being solo. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks when his heartbeat slows back down. 

“You haven’t been around in a while and Zayn says you’re not answering your phone. I had business in the area and I knew that you’d be here, so I figured I’d give you a hand.” 

“I don’t need a hand,” Niall says hesitantly, testing the waters. He doesn’t know if Harry’s been told about his fight with Liam or whatever and he doesn’t want to upset Harry either way. 

Harry shrugs. “Then I’ll just watch you work. I miss you.” 

“I miss you, too,” Niall says. He doesn’t mean for the words to make it past his lips, but they do and he doesn’t take them back because they’re true. 

“Then come home,” Harry says, voice turning pleading. “We all miss you.” 

“I don’t think I can, Haz,” Niall says. 

Harry follows as Niall makes his way to the gallery on the second floor, where the ancient tribal mask Niall has been sent to retrieve is on display. 

“Liam told me what you said to him the other night,” Harry says while Niall is trying to disarm the weight sensor underneath the mask. 

“What the fuck, Harry, I’m trying to work,” Niall scolds as he fights to keep his hands steady. “I’m not sorry for what I said. They don’t deserve how much you love them.” 

“They do,” Harry says. “That’s why I want you to come home, so we can explain everything to you. We thought we were being pretty obvious, but apparently not.” 

“I don’t think they want me to come back.” Niall keeps his voice as nonchalant as possible as he lifts the tribal mask from its display and puts it in his bag. “Especially not Liam.” 

“We all want you to come back.” Harry sounds a bit exasperated. “But fine. If you won’t come to the flat, at least meet me down by the docks tomorrow night around six. There’s something I want to show you. You’re not due back in London for a few more days.” 

The two of them sneak out of the museum, rearming it as they leave. Once they’re standing out of view of the security cameras, Harry puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows at Niall. 

Niall sighs. “Sure, yeah. I’ll meet you tomorrow.” 

Harry fucking _beams_ at him, giving him a big kiss on the cheek before saying, “Alright, let’s go get a pint and something to eat. It’s the least I can do after you went all knight-in-shining-armor on Liam for me.”

\----

Niall gets to the dock a few minutes after five. Harry’s waiting for him there at the end of the dock, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine. His hair fluffs up softly in the breeze off the water.

“Hey!” Harry’s face lights up when he catches sight of Niall. “Thought maybe you’d changed your mind.” 

“Pretty sure you’d come and track me down even if I had,” Niall returns. He shares a small smile with Harry as he heads the rest of the way down the dock. 

“Don’t be mad…” Harry starts, but he’s interrupted. 

“Niall!” Louis’ voice rings out. Niall looks up to see Louis hanging over the side of a yacht parked at the end of the dock. 

Harry looks up at him upside-down. “Louis,” he scolds, “you were supposed to wait until I told him that you were here.” 

Niall takes a last step forward and fists a hand in Harry’s shirt to keep him from tipping over backwards and falling into the water in the gap between the dock and the boat. Harry tilts his head back down, nose brushing Niall’s. 

“I was excited,” Louis says. “I missed him.” 

“I know you’re mad at him,” Harry whispers. He reaches up to wrap his hand around Niall’s wrist to keep him close. “You have every right to be. But there’s something you don’t know and it’ll change everything, I promise. Just hear us out, yeah?” 

Niall studies Harry’s face, eyes going a bit cross eyed because they’re still so close. Harry looks so earnest, so genuinely happy to see Niall and also so _so_ hesitant. It’s the hesitancy that gets Niall; the nervousness Harry has about whatever they’re about to tell Niall. 

He takes one last small step forward, pulling his wrist free of Harry’s grip, and wraps Harry up in a hug, burying his nose in Harry’s neck. “I love you, you know. I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

Harry’s arms come around Niall and tug him in tighter. “I know that. I love you, too, Nialler. Now, let’s get on this boat.” 

“Do you guys own the boat?” Niall questions. 

Harry waggles his eyebrows as he whistles. “Absolutely not,” he says, as Louis swings a rope ladder over the side. 

Niall laughs as he follows Harry up the ladder and over the side of the boat. Louis is waiting for them on the deck, arms crossed over his chest and rocking back and forth on his heels. Niall barely has his feet on the deck before Louis is saying, “Don’t suppose you’d be okay with a hug. Seeing as how you think I’m Satan and all that.” 

Niall gives a quick glance to Harry, who is hiding a smile behind his hand before facing Louis again and rolling his eyes. “I am a bit cold so a hug from the devil sounds kind of nice, actually.” 

Louis slides forward and snuggles into Niall. There isn’t another word for it. Niall’s always known that Louis is the smallest of them all, but he never really seems it. He’s never struck Niall as the one out of all of them who needs to be protected or watched out for. Right now, though, Louis feels small and fragile inside of Niall’s arms. Niall wants to hold him tighter, but for the first time he feels as if that might do more harm than good. 

They separate after a few beats, but Louis stays close, guiding Niall across the deck of the boat to the front. The prow, Niall thinks it’s called. This part is more open than the others, surrounded by a railing instead of a plastic barrier. The captain’s cabin stands high above the deck about three-fourths of the way towards the prow. As they continue to the rpow, Niall sees the vague outline of Liam at the wheel behind the glass. 

At the prow itself, Zayn is sitting at a table that looks like it is set for a fancy dinner party. There are benches bolted to the deck alongside the table, which is also bolted down. He looks good, profile outlined by the setting sun. 

“Hey,” Zayn says, standing up when Niall comes into view. “Alright, bro?” 

“Yeah, alright,” Niall answers. He looks around, puzzled by the posh set up. He’s pretty sure he sees more than one fork on the side of those plates. 

“Take a seat,” Harry says, stealing Niall away from Louis and nudging Niall towards the table. “I’ll let Liam know we’re good to go.” 

Niall sits down across from Zayn, who sits back down when Niall takes his seat. Louis circles the table to sit beside Zayn and the two of them are silent as they study Niall. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Niall tells them, careful not to snap. He’s not here to fight with them, honestly. That one confrontation with Liam is really all he had in him. “I’m a bit peeved at you right now, but we’re still mates.” 

They both break out in grins at that and Zayn launches into a discussion about the new tattoo he got, snaking his hand across the table and into Niall’s grip so he can look at it while Zayn talks about it. Niall tilts Zayn’s hand from side to side, studying the ink on his wrist and the back of his hand. He drags his fingers across Zayn’s palm by accident when he lets go and when he looks up, there’s a slight blush on Zayn’s cheeks. 

The boat starts moving forward then, jilting all of the flatware and silverware. 

“Fuck,” Louis swears, “we did not think this part through.” 

“Mostly just wanted to impress you,” Zayn admits, as he reaches out to stop a glass from tumbling over the edge of the table. 

“Don’t have to impress me,” Niall says as he catches a spoon that’s trying to dive bomb the deck. “Thought you’d have figured that out by now.” 

“We like impressing you, though,” Harry says. A glass shatters on the deck at his feet. He looks down at it and then up at the three of them, who have finally settled the rest of the tableware. “Oops.” 

“That’s your glass, Styles,” Louis says, pointing a finger at Harry accusingly. Harry shrugs and kicks the pieces of glass over the side of the boat, hands braced against the railing. 

When all the pieces are gone, Harry drops into the seat next to Niall, reaching out and taking one of Niall’s hands into both of his. “Is everyone playing nice?” 

“Yes, _Mum_.” Zayn rolls his eyes. “We’re all on our best behavior.” 

“Good,” Harry says, “otherwise I’d have to get your father to turn this stolen yacht around.” 

They don’t say anything for a while, the wind too loud as Liam brings them out to open water and too concerned with keeping all of the plates on the table where they belong. Eventually, the boat loses speed and comes to a stop, the rumble of the engine falling silent. No one speaks, leaving Liam’s footsteps to echo out across the water as he comes to join them. 

“Alright?” Liam says. 

“Be better if we could eat,” Louis says. “Took you long enough to park the boat, Payno.” 

“At least I didn’t crash it, like someone else I could mention.” 

Louis just rolls his eyes before getting up and opening a chest that’s attached to the center cabin of the ship. He reaches in and pulls out a few pizzas and a case of beer while Liam sits down beside Niall. Niall tries to pretend that the care Liam puts into not touching him doesn't hurt as much as it does. 

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” Niall says, because he is. He still means every word he said, but he is sorry for the way that he said them. 

“Probably deserved it, really,” Liam says, looking sheepish. “We should have just been honest with you from the beginning.” 

“Which is what _some_ of us wanted to do,” Louis says. He deposits the pizza on the table with no ceremony and puts the beer by his feet when he sits again. 

"So all the fancy stuff was just for show?" Niall asks, laughing. "We're just having pizza and beer like every other night." 

"You said we didn't have to impress you," Zayn says, tongue pushed up against his teeth as he smiles at Niall, "so we left the caviar in the cooler." 

Niall sticks his tongue out at Zayn as Harry serves up pizza for all of them. He took a bite, trying to hide his wince when it burns his mouth. 

Dinner is good. There's still some tension, Niall can feel it every time they're all chewing instead of talking, but it's not as bad as he thought it would have been. It kind of feels how dinners at home used to go after his mum would scold him or Greg. 

They finish their pizza and break out some ice cream and into the beer. Niall leans back on the bench, balancing himself by his head on the railing behind him. 

"You're gonna get a headache," Zayn says. 

Niall shrugs. "Too full to care." 

The sun is on its last dregs, fingers of light slowly but surely dragging into night. It makes everything softer; it almost makes Niall forget that he's upset with them. 

"Quite romantic, this is," Louis says. Niall can't tell if he's being sincere or taking the piss, Louis' tone hovering somewhere in between. "All of us sharing a nice dinner on a fancy boat at sunset." 

Niall tenses, unsure of where Louis is going with this. It's Liam, however, that offers an explanation. 

"There's something we have to tell you," he says. 

"So you keep saying," Niall retorts. It feels like the only thing they've told him all night is that they have something to tell him. He wishes they would just get it over with because it's starting to make him nervous. 

"The thing is," Louis harnesses conversation control from Liam. "The thing is, we're actually quite nervous to tell you because we've never told anyone before and we're not quite sure how you're going to take it."

"But we'd like you to take it well!" Harry chimes in. "We're hoping you'll take it very well." 

"Was that a pun?" Zayn demands and Niall can physically see the conversation getting derailed in front of him.

"What is it that you have to tell me?" he asks. 

"The thing is, Niall, we've been lying to you," Liam says. He furrows his brows. "Well, not lying to you so much as we just didn't tell you everything."

"And what didn't you tell me?"

Liam reaches out, like he wants to take Niall's hand, but pulls back before he touches him. "You were right to yell at me when you thought that we were all sleeping together behind Harry's back. In fact, that's what really cemented this decision for us. You were right to yell at us because it was our fault because what we didn't mention is that we're __all together. Like, the four of us."

Niall raises his eyebrows, looking around the table with both the feeling that he misheard and the feeling that he heard correctly and just doesn't understand. The faces staring back at him are dead serious though. Harry has the worst poker face out of anyone Niall's ever met -- he always smiles, which either adds to the charm of the lie of gives it away, depending on how well you know him -- and even he doesn't look like this is a joke or a con or whatever. 

"What does that mean?" Niall finally settles on asking. It seems like the logical place to start. 

"What Liam means," Zayn says, "what we all mean is that, like, we're all dating each other? Exclusively. It's like a regular relationship, just with more people." 

"Okay..." Niall says slowly. He can deal with that. That's fine. He isn't exactly sure how that would work, but he doesn't have to. He just needs to listen to them and try to understand where they're coming from. 

"So when you caught me with Louis and caught Li was Louis, it wasn't cheating, because we're all boyfriends or partners or whatever, too. We were doing that stuff with Harry, too, you just didn't catch it happening," Zayn explains. His eyes are sharp, cataloging all of Niall's reactions, but behind it Niall can tell he's nervous. 

Harry touches Niall's shoulder gently to get his attention. "We've never really explained it to someone before. We've kind of just let people think whatever they want to think about us, but you're different. We've wanted to tell you since we first met you." 

"Why?" Niall questions. 

Everyone seems to freeze at that and Niall wonders if he's asked something wrong, if his curiosity is going to cost him the honesty these boys are trusting him with. 

Louis is the one who finally takes a deep breath and answers, "It's not a secret that we like you, Neil.” Louis smiles at him reassuringly. “We love having you stay at our flat and playing video games with you and just having you around, really. But we'd be lying if we said that those feelings didn't extend beyond something platonic, for all of us." 

“What does that mean?” Niall asks. He feels like he’s asking so many questions, feels dumb in how long it is taking him to figure them out when he thought that he’d gotten so good at reading them. 

"It means," Harry says, pushing in closer to Niall on the bench and wrapping his arm around Niall's shoulders, "we want you to join us." 

"Like, in bed?" 

Harry hums, tilting his head thoughtfully. 

"Not just for that, though," Zayn says. When Niall meets his eyes, there's concern in them. "We want you to be a part of this. All of this. In the bedroom and out." 

"You want me to be your what? Boyfriend?" Niall asks and be can hear how incredulous he sounds. It's just. It's a lot to take in all at once is all and Niall feels like he can't breathe. His heart is racing and he feels an awful lot like he does when he's been somewhere too small without enough windows for too long. He feels like they're pressing in on him, the weight of their gazes trapping him somewhere he can't really escape from. 

"If you'd like," Louis says and his voice is gentle, the same way it had been that day at the bank. It's like he can tell Niall is freaking out. 

"I can't," Niall starts and then loses the words. "I. Thank you, for the offer or whatever, but I don't think that I can do this. Excuse me." 

He clambers off the bench, Harry's arm dropping away from him like some kind of fucking metaphor. He pauses, standing there while they all stare at him, and forces the words out. "I don't know where my cabin is, if one of you could please..." 

He trails off, face burning hot at having to ask the four boys he just rejected to show him to the place where he is going to hide from them for the next five hundred years, probably. Louis stands before anyone else can offer, tilting his head so that Niall will follow him. Niall doesn't make eye contact with any of the others as he follows Louis around the captain's cabin to a doorway at the back of it. 

"The cabins are just down there," Louis says, looking out at the water over Niall's shoulder. "Pick whichever one you like, we'll share the others." 

Niall doesn't know what to say to that. If he's being honest, he almost expected Louis to have volunteered so that he could demand more answers out of Niall. But Louis doesn't, he just stands there, waiting for Niall to do something. 

"Lou," Niall says finally, but he doesn't know what to say after it. He's too overwhelmed, he's too... Everything is too much right now. He just found out his four best mates (only mates, really) are in some kind of four way relationship with each other and that they want him to join and that he is so far out of his depth it would be hilarious if he didn't feel so mixed up and shaky. 

"Good night," Louis says instead, still not looking at Niall. "Liam will bring us back to the docks tomorrow." 

With that, he turns and leaves, heading back to the front of the boat and his boyfriends or whatever they call each other. Niall watches him round the captain's cabin and then heads down beneath the deck to find his room. 

There are three cabins with beds in them, Niall takes the smallest, figuring that they need the space more than he does. There’s a cramped bathroom attached to his cabin; so small that he bumps a hip against the corner of the sink on his way into and out of the shower. 

He wraps a towel just beneath his waist, where one of the bruises is already starting to show; he’s always bruised easily. It’s the Irish in him. 

He steps back out into the main part of the cabin just in time to hear the boys coming down the hall. Like a fly drawn to an open flame, Niall crosses the room to press his ear to the door. 

“We knew him reacting like this was a possibility,” Liam is saying. 

“We should have just told him the truth from the beginning,” Louis responds. “Should have given him the chance to get the fuck out before he practically moved in with us. Now it’s messy.” Niall hears the door to the cabin next to his open and close. He follows their voices to the wall, listening intently. 

“We _all_ agreed to keep our relationship a secret from him,” Zayn’s voice is fainter, wall thicker than the door. “We thought it would be easier to explain when we were sure.” 

There’s a long pause. Someone says something too quietly for Niall to hear, but the protests of Zayn, Liam, and Louis come through as clearly as if he were in the room with them. 

“We’re not going to lose him, Haz,” Louis’ voice comes. “He’s still our mate. He just doesn’t want to sleep with us.” 

Something unfortunate twists in Niall’s gut. He blames it on the guilt of listening in on a clearly private conversation. 

“Besides, who could say no to those dimples?” Zayn’s voice is lighter. Niall can almost picture him poking at Harry’s cheeks. “You’ll flash him a big smile tomorrow morning and it will be just like we didn’t proposition our best mate for sex out in the middle of the ocean.” 

They all laugh at that and from there the only sounds are that of them getting ready to go to bed, laughing and joking as they strip down. Niall steps away from the wall and closes his eyes, does his best not to picture all of them touching and smiling at each other as they take their clothes off and climb into bed together. 

It doesn’t work. 

He ditches his towel and slides back into the same boxers as before; he hadn’t expected this excursion to last through the night. He climbs into bed, bundling himself up under the blankets and closing his eyes even though it’s only eight o’clock. 

He’s just managed to trick his body into drifting off to sleep when he hears it. 

A moan. Niall’s eyes shoot open at the sound and he slows his breathing, listening carefully for any other sound. Maybe he was mistaken or, like, half dreaming or something. 

But no. Because another moan drifts between the rooms, followed by the sound of someone gasping. 

“Liam.” That is definitely Harry’s voice. That is definitely, absolutely Harry’s voice hitching halfway through Liam’s name as Liam does _something_ to him. Niall can’t fucking believe this. 

He knows that he had the chance to be in there with them. He knows that he made the choice to say no, to sleep in here by himself while they did whatever in the cabin next door. It just hurts a lot more than he thought it would, being able to listen in on exactly what he turned down. 

It’s not like he doesn’t fancy them. Spending as much time with them as he has been has only made his dumb crushes turn into something more like genuine infatuation, but he just doesn’t understand how a relationship with four people can work, let alone five. They didn’t do things like this back in Ireland, at least not that Niall knew of. He’d spent the last month or so trying to talk himself out of staring at them too long and pretending that he didn’t want to kiss at least one of them twenty times a day and tonight he’d been handed everything he could want on a silver platter and he’d turned it down because it was too much. 

Niall contemplates putting his pillow over his head to block out the sounds coming from next door. There’s moaning and gasping and panting and the sound of skin against skin and it’s making Niall’s face go red, the warm feeling of arousal curling through him. He feels dirty for even listening in on something so intensely private -- something he had rejected not even an hour earlier -- he’s definitely not going to get off on it. Jesus. 

He lies there and wills his dick to shut the fuck up while next door the sounds only grow louder, more breathless and out of control. It’s like they’ve forgotten he’s even here; they’re fucking like they’re all alone on the ocean and like they don’t know that he’s supposedly sleeping next door. They know Niall is a heavy sleeper, but Niall’s pretty sure no one could sleep through the sound of Louis Tomlinson coming. 

Things finally quiet down in the other cabin and Niall breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if they decide to go for round two. Probably throw himself over the side of the boat or something. 

The room feels too small now that it’s silent below decks. It only takes about five minutes in the silence and darkness of the room for Niall to start freaking out. Logically, he knows that the walls are not shrinking, he knows that the room is the exact same size it was five minutes ago. But the logical part of him is being overwhelmed by the part of him that needs to get the fuck out of this room. 

He throws back the blankets and stumbles out into the hallway and up the stairs to the deck. He takes a deep breath when he hits open sky, his heart rate already settling back down. 

“You alright, bro?” Zayn’s voice makes Niall’s heart jump again. He’s leaning against the side of the boat, cigarette dangling from his fingers while he looks at Niall. He's in his pants as well and a plain white shirt Niall is pretty sure belongs to Harry. 

“Fine,” Niall says. He takes half a step towards Zayn before stopping, not sure where he stands with him -- with any of them -- right now. “Just not a huge fan of small spaces.” 

Zayn nods, taking a drag. He uses his free hand to pat the space beside him in invitation. Niall crosses to sit next to him, moonlight washing over both of them as they sit there. Zayn offers Niall his cigarette and Niall sucks in a quick lungful before handing it back carefully. 

“I get that,” Zayn says after he takes another drag of his cigarette. At Niall’s confused look, he goes on. “The not liking small spaces thing. Like, I’m okay with the room itself being small, but sometimes I just need to get away from other people and, like, recharge." 

"Yeah, that's kind of it. Just don't like the idea of being surrounded or stuck, you know?" 

"Could be worth it, though," Zayn says, voice careful. "Being surrounded, I mean." 

Niall has a pretty good idea where Zayn is going with this and the words slip out before he can bite his traitorous tongue. "Sounded like it." 

He goes bright red while Zayn just chuckles. He stubs out what's left of the cigarette. "Louis seems to think you just need a little persuasion."

"And he thought loud, vigorous sex was the way to go about that?" Niall asks, trying not to laugh. 

Zayn just shrugs, looking a bit like he wants to laugh too. "A kind of 'look what you're missing' thing, I guess."

"You don't sound like you hated the idea of manipulating me with sex," Niall tries for a joke. 

"Anything that ends in me getting off is not an idea I can really hate," Zayn says, waggling his eyebrows and making Niall laugh. "But I guess on some level I understood why he was doing it. We really do like you, Niall, in every sense of the word." 

Niall sighs a bit, tilting his head back to gaze up at the sky. It's too hard to look at Zayn right now; he's too beautiful in the moonlight for Niall to look at while he explains why he can't be with Zayn the way he wants to be with him. The way they all want to be with him. "It's not that I don't like you back. I like all of you just how you like me. I just. Don't understand, I guess, how a relationship between five people would even work. I don't know how to love four people at once." 

"When all of this first started," Zayn says, which is not what Niall was expecting but he keeps silent about it. "When everything first started, it was just me and Louis. And it was easy because you spend your whole life being told that there's this one person out there for you and I really thought I had found that person in Louis. I knew Louis thought the same about me and we were happy to be together and be in love. We fancied ourselves a team of outlaws, stealing all the gold in Europe by night, fucking our way through the daylight hours. It wasn't perfect, but we were mostly perfect and it was everything I thought I wanted. 

"I met Liam before Louis did and it was nothing like my first meeting with Louis. When I met Louis for the first time he was over the top and easy with his affections. Liam? Not so much. Liam kept to himself, wasn’t really sure where he fit in in this new world. He was only doing it to help out his family, he kept saying. He's grown into it more now, but I'd be lying if I said Louis and I didn't place bets at least twice on how long Liam would last in our kind of life. He's proved us wrong, obviously, and we ended up giving him the money we bet both times. 

"Anyways, like, Liam was so different from Louis in the beginning and it was weird for me because I was in love with Louis, I knew I was, but for some reason I couldn't get Liam out of my head. I’m not stupid, I knew that I was falling for Liam and that he had feelings for me, too.” 

“What did you do?” Niall asks when Zayn pauses. “I mean, obviously it all worked out.” 

“Almost didn’t,” Zayn says. “I told Louis about how I felt about Liam and he wasn’t too happy. He and Liam didn’t really get on in the beginning and he was scared of losing me to Liam even though that would never happen in a million years. I love them both way too much to ever choose between them. But he was scared that Liam was going to steal me away so he went to see him and they got into this big row and ended up kissing, the fucking idiots, and that freaked Liam out more and we nearly lost him. Managed to convince him we both fancied him and that we could make it work, though.” 

“And Harry?” Niall can’t keep himself from asking. He wants to know, wants to understand how they make this work. 

Zayn laughs. "Harry all but threw himself into our relationship. We'd only had Liam for, like, two months and he and Louis were still in the stage where they pretended to hate each other so they would have an excuse for angry sex. They always got so loud so Harry figured us out right away and slowly but surely wormed his way in. We blinked one day and he had moved all his stuff into our room and was spread out practically naked on our bed. Wasn’t too hard to talk him into being our boyfriend, honestly.” 

Niall smiles, studying the groves of the deck beneath his feet. He can see it all perfectly, sees how easily they all fell together. He sees the way they still look at each other, the way they _had_ been looking at each other even when he had been too dumb to notice it. Niall _wants_ , suddenly and almost painfully. 

“Isn’t it hard?” he asks. “Isn’t it hard loving three different people at the same time? Doesn’t it ever get a bit… claustrophobic?”

“It can be, a bit,” Zayn answers after thinking for a moment. “I think I need more space than they do, normally, but we all try to balance it. Liam goes to the gym. Harry listens to music. Louis plays footie. I step out for a smoke. We make it work. It’s nice, more often than it isn’t.” 

“Kind of scary,” Niall says. _So many more people to lose_ , he tacks on in his head.

Zayn shrugs, but nods, like he hears what Niall isn’t saying. “We don’t get a lot of sure things in this line of work. Louis, Harry, Liam… they’re my sure things.” 

“And me?” Niall asks, turning to Zayn and smiling a bit. 

Zayn reaches over and pokes at Niall’s chest twice and then just above his belly button. “Not sure yet.” AH

“Yet,” Niall echoes. 

“Yet,” Zayn says, voice certain. He stands then, extending a hand for Niall to take, pulling him up to stand as well. 

They walk down below decks in silence, shoulders brushing. Outside of his door, Niall stops Zayn before he can head to his own room. “Zayn?” 

He turns to look at Niall, eyebrows raising. 

“Thank you,” Niall says, “for sharing all of that with me.” 

Zayn grins, tongue pressed up against the back of his teeth. “Told you. It’s not just for the sex stuff.” 

Niall lets out a little chuckle as they both let themselves into their rooms. 

When Niall wakes up the next morning, he’s the only person in his bed. He sighs and curls in on himself, taking up even less space on the empty mattress.

\----

They back to shore early the next morning. Niall worries a bit that it’s because they want to get away from him sooner, get back to their flat and their relationship without his stupid feelings fucking it up for all of them or whatever.

He couldn’t be more wrong, honestly.

They’ve barely gotten their land legs back, when they’re dragging him over to one of the expensive cars that Louis only breaks out for special occasions and forcing him to come back to their flat with them. 

“You don’t have to if you’re, like, uncomfortable or anything,” Harry had offered even as he tugged Niall down the dock. “If you really don’t want to come, we won’t make you. But we still like you loads and want you to hang out with us.” 

Niall hadn’t known how to say no, honestly. His talk with Zayn last night hadn’t made him feel anything but regret, throwing all of this away. They’d handed him everything he’d wanted and he’d been too scared to take it. He sits in the back of the car between Zayn and Liam and relegates himself to a life of being the third-wheel to a four-way relationship.

Mostly, he goes with them because he knows that if he leaves, he will spend the rest of his life missing them. They’ll be okay without him, but he can’t let them go. They’re all he’s got, really. He’s selfish; always has been, wanting more than the world was willing to offer. 

The only thing that really changes now that Niall knows about them is that they’re a lot more open about their relationship. Or maybe Niall’s just noticing things now that he’s looking for them. He sees the way Zayn’s hands linger a bit too long on Louis’ shoulders when he leans forward to grab them over the seat back. He sees the way Harry traces shapes onto Louis’ hand on the back of the gear shift. He sees the way Liam’s fingers grip at Zayn’s shoulder behind Niall’s back. 

The feeling of wanting from last night is back, making Niall squirm a bit where he sits in between them. 

On the one hand, he’s glad they can be more open with him now. He’s glad they trust him with this. On the other hand, it’s fucking torture to see everything you _stupidly_ passed up play out in front of you and know that you can’t have it. 

It gets worse when they get back to the flat. Has Harry always been this fucking clingy? He’s pressed up against Zayn’s back, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he buries his nose into the nape of Zayn’s neck. Zayn laughing as Louis tries to grab at Liam’s crotch, only for Liam to tickle Louis into submission in his arms. 

The day is pretty typical, honestly. They all change into their trackies and sprawl out on the couch together, starting up a round of Mario Kart. Louis is still a vicious cheater, but now he cheats by sucking on Harry’s neck, wiggling his bum in Liam’s lap, whispering something dirty in Zayn’s ear. He does it a bit to Niall, too, which Niall doesn’t know how to feel about. He blows on Niall’s neck, biting sharply on Niall’s earlobe. 

“Knock it off, Louis,” Liam scolds. Louis relents after that and Niall can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not. 

That’s not true. He is definitely disappointed. 

He has no right to be, he reminds himself. He’s the one that turned them down. He did it. He doesn’t get to have Louis blowing on his neck because he told them that he doesn’t want to be their boyfriend. Niall hates himself a little bit. 

When Harry mentions being hungry an hour or so later, Niall practically springs off the couch as he volunteers to go down the street and pick up their usual order at the Chinese place they all like. 

“I’ll come with you,” Harry offers. 

“I got it,” Niall protests, but Harry’s already standing up. 

They leave the flat and head down the street, Harry’s fingers brushing up against Niall’s every so often as they walk. It’s driving Niall a bit mad. 

“Didn’t think you’d say no,” Harry says when they’re just outside the restaurant. 

_Jesus_ , okay. Niall takes a deep breath as he opens the door for Harry. “What?” 

Harry throws him a look as he walks inside, Niall following him. They step up to the counter and place their order, the restaurant all but deserted at three o’clock on a Wednesday. While they’re waiting, Harry turns to Niall, leaning his elbows back against the counter like he’s at a photoshoot for an album cover shoot or something. 

“I just didn’t think you’d say no, when we asked you to join us,” Harry says. He tilts his head, studying Niall. “I was pretty sure you liked us. I would see the way you’d look at us sometimes and --” he cuts off abruptly, shrugging and standing up straight. “Guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.” 

Niall’s chest goes tight. He doesn’t. This isn’t what he wanted. This isn’t what he _wants_. 

The man behind the counter calls out their names and they take their bags from him, thanking him. They’re nearly back to the flat when Niall says it. 

“You weren’t,” he says, refusing to look at Harry. “Wrong, I mean. You weren’t wrong. About me.” 

“Then why?” Harry asks. 

“Freaked out a bit, I guess,” Niall admits. “Didn’t really know what to do. Still don’t really know what to do. Fucked it all up though, didn’t I?” 

Harry stops on the sidewalk a few steps away from their flat. Niall stops as well, turning to face him and brows furrowing in confusion as Harry places his bag of food on the ground and pulls Niall into a hug. 

“‘sn’t fucked up,” he whispers. “We can still sort it.” 

Niall sighs and lets himself burrow into the hug just a little bit. He doesn’t say anything and eventually Harry steps back to pick up the food and lead the way back home.

\----

The rest of the day is fine. Besides some clandestine kissing when they think Niall can’t see and hands lingering longer than normal, the day remains average. Niall feels like everyone has gone back to normal but him. He can’t relax; finds himself on edge every time one of them even stands near each other.

It’s just that they look so _good_ together. It’s intoxicating the way that they seem to fit into one another. The way that Louis fits up against Liam’s side on the sofa; the gentle-giant way Harry approaches Zayn, tugging him in by his hand so he can peck a soft kiss to his lips; how even when Liam’s teasing Zayn he’s careful of him; how Harry makes himself smaller so he can tuck himself into Louis’ shoulder. Niall sits on the sofa, watching all of this, and wonders how they ever thought there would even be room for him. 

But then. He starts to notice the way they’ve shifted so that he fits too. He notices the way that Zayn will pull him back on the couch so that Niall’s half-sprawled across his lap. Before he can even ask for more food or drink, Harry’s already got it in front of him, with a beaming smile and a hair ruffle. Liam likes to grab at him, tugging on his shirt or wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist for no other reason than that he can. And Louis just likes to make Niall laugh; Niall sees the fond look Louis gives him whenever he laughs the hardest at one of Louis’ jokes. He can see the way that he fits with them, too, and he hates himself even more. 

Everything’s great, it’s fine, it’s mostly normal up until Niall gets out of the shower. 

He wraps a towel around his waist and clears the steam from the mirror, letting the water from his hair drip down his neck. It’s still warm and it feels nice against his rapidly cooling skin. He brushes his teeth and then steps out into the hallway. 

A breathy “fuck, _yes_ ,” has his stopping in his tracks. 

“Um,” he says before he can stop himself. He almost wishes he’d brought a shirt with him into the bathroom to put on after his shower because he can _feel_ his face and neck and chest flushing bright red as Louis and Liam pull apart to look at him. 

Niall slaps a hand over his eyes, like that will do a goddamned thing. The image of Liam pressing Louis up against the wall, a hand in his trousers while Louis’ hands were tangled in Liam’s hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m so, so, _so_ fucking sorry. I’ll just go to my room and you can carry on.” 

Before he can move, Louis’ going, “Nevermind, Payno.” Niall drops his hand in time to see Louis pushing Liam away from him. “No use now. All I’m going to think about while we’re fucking is how good Niall looks all wet and in that towel.” 

Niall didn’t think it was impossible for him to turn more red than he already is, but he does as he replays Louis’ words back in his head, images flooding along with them. Images of Liam and Louis fucking, which would be enough to leave him breathless and hard, honestly, but, on top of that, images of Liam and Louis fucking and Louis gasping out _Niall’s_ name when he comes instead of Liam’s. 

Liam just rolls his eyes like Niall isn’t redder than a tomato and slaps Louis upside the head. “Apologize, Tommo, and then come to bed.” 

Liam’s barely got the door to the bedroom shut before Louis is all up in Niall’s space, boxing him in against the doorframe of the bathroom. Niall’s breath catches in his throat at the predatory gleam in Louis’ eye. 

“I’m not going to apologize because I’m not sorry for telling Liam the truth,” Louis says, his voice a bit deeper than usual and fuck if that isn’t making Niall’s whole situation even worse. There’s no way Louis can’t notice he’s half-hard in his towel. “I know it kind of freaks you out, the thought of being with all of us or whatever, but we really like you, Niall, and we’d really like the chance to show you how much.” 

Niall swallows, knows its audible in the tense quiet of the hallway. He would bet twenty quid that the other three have their ears pressed to their bedroom door right now, trying to listen in on whatever Louis is saying to him. He licks his lips and watches the way that Louis’ eyes immediately snap to them. He really wants Louis to kiss him. He really wants to kiss Louis. 

“I should go,” is what he says instead, tilting his head back a bit so he doesn’t have to look at Louis’ face when he says it. “I should put some clothes on and let you guys get back to... you know.”

He slips out from between Louis and the wall and walks quickly to the door of his room. 

“Niall.” Louis’ voice has him freezing in his tracks. He doesn’t turn to face him, doesn’t think he could walk away from him again and Niall still isn’t sure that he’s _ready_ for what they want and need of him. He just doesn’t _know_. Louis apparently doesn’t need eye contact to say, “Still going to think about you, if that’s alright. Think it might be. Think you’ll be thinking about us, too.” 

Niall makes sure to slam his door behind him so that Louis knows he is no longer listening. 

It doesn’t stop the sound of Louis’ laughter floating into the room as Niall drops his towel and gets a hand around his cock.

\----

The next morning finds Niall up at sunrise, making his way through all of the flour and sugar and eggs in the flat. He literally could not tell you if he slept at all last night, mind going a kilometer a minute as he replayed what Harry and Louis had said. Harry telling him they could still sort it and Louis making it extremely clear that they all still wanted him.

“You’re up early,” Liam says as he comes into the kitchen. He eyes the bowl of batter Niall had spent the last hour making warily, then settles in against the workspace to watch Niall pour the batter out into circles on the griddle he’d found in a cupboard. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Niall explains. “Making American pancakes helps me think.” 

“American pancakes?” Liam asks, laughter in his voice.  
Niall shrugs as he flips another one of them over, watching it carefully as it browns. 

“Do you want some tea?” Liam offers. Niall gestures to the sink, where he’s spooned the teabags from the four cups that he’s already had this morning. Liam’s face gets a bit pinched. He waits until Niall slides the pancake he was making onto a plate before reaching over and grabbing his wrist. “Mate, do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Not really,” Niall says, pulling his wrist free so he can pour out more batter. He nudges the giant stack of pancakes that he’s already made toward Liam. “I mean, I will. But I want to wait for the other lads.” 

Niall can feel Liam looking at him, but he doesn’t turn away from his pancakes. “That could be a while, still,” Liam offers. 

“More pancakes for you, then,” Niall says, flipping the one on the griddle over and handing Liam a fork at the same time.

\----

The rest of them stumble in around the same time that Niall runs out of batter. Suspiciously, it’s around the same time that Liam begs off to the loo. If Niall didn’t already think that Liam had gone to wake them, his sheepish look at the glares he receives from the other three confirm it for him.

“Heard there were pancakes,” Louis says. He sits at the table and puts his head down on his arms. 

Niall turns to glare at Liam as well, but he just shrugs and puts the kettle on. Niall plates the pancakes and puts them on the table to mumbled thanks and grunts of appreciation. 

“What the fuck is this?” Louis asks as he drowns them in maple syrup and shoves half of one in his mouth. 

“American pancakes,” Niall says. 

“They help him to relax,” Liam chimes in from where he’s pouring tea. 

Zayn eyes Niall over his stack. “Why do you need to relax?” 

“Can we talk about this after you eat your pancakes?” Niall asks, but he knows it’s a losing battle -- they’ve already put down their forks. He sighs. 

“Might as well tell us, mate,” Harry says. “Otherwise, we’re likely to starve.” 

Liam sets their teas down in front of them and takes a seat at the table across from Niall. Harry’s to his right, Zayn diagonally across from him and Louis to his left. It feels good to have them around him again and not feel like he’s intruding. 

“So I did some thinking last night.” Niall figures it’s best to just jump into it. He’s less likely to chicken out that way. “About what you told me on the boat.” 

“Please don’t move out,” Harry interrupts. The other three turn to glare at him while Niall just looks at him in surprise. Harry flushes, but goes on. “We know that it’s a lot to handle and we _swear_ we’ll stop, like, trying to seduce you or whatever, just please don’t leave us.” 

“I’m not going to leave you,” Niall says slowly so that every word is enunciated. “I was actually still wondering if your offer was available?” 

Niall looks up after a long moment of silence, nerves over seeing their faces winning out over his fear of rejection. They’re all staring at him. 

“Okay, or not,” Niall hurries to say. “We can just eat our pancakes and forget this ever happened.” He shoves a huge piece of pancake in his mouth and chews viciously. 

“Niall,” Zayn speaks first. Niall doesn’t stop chewing and he doesn’t look up. Is this how they felt when he told them no? This _sucks_. “Niall, look at me.” 

Practically against his will, Niall does. Zayn’s smiling, soft and fond. 

“Of course it’s still available,” Zayn says. 

Niall feels a smile break out across his face, stretching his cheeks until they hurt. “Really?” 

“Of course, you donut,” Liam says. “We’ve wanted you since we practically met you, that hasn’t stopped. If you’ll have us, we want to be with you.” 

“I can’t believe all it took was me giving you a semi in the hallway, honestly,” Louis says. He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling just as bright as Niall and Niall knows that he’s full of shit. 

“It was more than that,” Niall says. At Louis’ face, he amends, “I mean, that didn’t hurt, but I did put a little more thought into it.” 

“Like?” Zayn asks. 

Niall shrugs. “I made a spreadsheet on my laptop. One column listed all the reasons I shouldn’t date four people at one time and the other side had all the reasons I should. Guess I just realized there were more reasons to date you than to not.” 

“What’s on the list?” Zayn presses and Niall smiles because of course Zayn wants to know. 

“Stuff about how I already live here and am practically already dating all of you, so not much will change except I won’t have to give myself orgasms anymore…” 

“Don’t be so sure,” Liam tosses in. “Louis’ a fucking voyeur sometimes.” 

“Like you don’t love it,” Louis shoots at him. “Stop interrupting Niall.” 

“There was stuff about how I’m already half in love with all of you and it doesn’t look like those feelings will be going away anytime soon. Stuff about how you make me feel at home, not just in the flat, but whenever we’re together. Stuff like I would steal a million jewels if any of you asked me to.” 

“About that…” Louis smirks. 

“Stop interrupting Niall,” Liam parrots at him, doing a terrible imitation of Louis’ accent. 

“What’s on the other side of the list?” Zayn’s voice is more hesitant now. 

Niall tries to play it up like that side of the list had more than one thing on it, but he’s sure his smile gives him away. “That no one’s sex life needs to be that adventurous.” 

They all laugh at that and Niall feels something in his chest release. All the anxiety and confusion that had kept him up last night melts away, exhaustion setting in in their place. It feels like he can barely lift his fork and for the first time all morning, he realises just how many pancakes he actually made. 

“Shit,” he says. “This is so many pancakes.” 

Everyone laughs again. 

“That’s alright,” Harry says, leaning over to squeeze Niall’s arm. “These are ‘let’s be boyfriends’ pancakes and you can never have too many of those.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Zayn asks at the same time that Louis groans and goes, “Stop, stop, stop. This is why you need more than four hours of sleep.

Harry pouts and, without thinking, Niall leans over to kiss him. As soon as he realises what he’s done, he pulls back, scared that he overstepped or something. They’ve been dating for all of two minutes, he isn’t exactly sure what he’s allowed to do yet. Harry’s all smiles though. 

“Fuck you!” Louis is shouting. “I waited _months_ and Harry gets kissed first? This is bullshit!” 

Zayn has shredded his napkin in his lap and is now throwing the pieces of it at Harry, a frown on his face. 

“I feel like you broke a rule,” Liam says, glaring at Harry. “Wasn’t there a rule about kissing?” 

“Rules don’t count anymore,” Harry gloats. “Niall’s our _boyfriend_ now and he can kiss me whenever he wants to.” 

“That wasn’t even a real kiss,” Louis grumbles, arms crossed. 

“Why don’t you show me a real kiss then, Tommo?” Niall challenges, comfort seeping into him. He belongs here. He’s their _boyfriend_. 

Louis, as expected, takes the challenge like a champ, launching himself at Niall and pressing their mouths together, lips already open and his tongue already darting into Niall’s mouth. He tastes like the maple sugar and Niall moans a bit when he licks into Louis’ mouth, chasing the flavor. 

“Now that,” Louis says as he breaks away and sits back in his chair, “is a real kiss. Had him moaning and everything.” 

“Only moaning because you taste like maple syrup,” Niall admits. 

There’s laughter all around, even Louis cracking a bit of a smile. 

“C’mon, mate,” Zayn says, standing up. “Let’s get you to bed. You look about to drop.” 

Niall is reminded once again of how absolutely fucking knackered he is. Not that any of them look any better. “What about you? You’re all up really early, too.”

“We’re going to finish these delicious pancakes that our boyfriend made us and then join you,” Harry says. 

“Except for Liam,” Louis adds, “because he’s a weirdo and he’s going to go to the gym instead of getting back in bed.” 

“Think I could make an exception today,” Liam says. Louis gasps loudly and presses a hand to his chest. “Oh, stuff it, Tommo. Not everyday we get a fit new boyfriend, now is it?” Liam stands and he and Zayn all but lift Niall out of his seat to carry him down the hall. 

“Hey,” Niall protests weakly. “You passed my door.” 

“Not your door anymore,” Liam says. “Got a new room, now. If you want it.” 

“Course I want it.” It’s getting hard to talk. He’s just so drained. He wants to sleep for five days straight, wonders offhandedly if Flora would mind. “Want all of it. ‘ made a spreadsheet.” 

Zayn chuckles. “Know you did.” 

They push open the door to their room and Niall isn’t tired enough to notice the severe lack of bunk beds. 

“No bunk beds,” he says nonsensically. Zayn and Liam exchange a look of confusion over him as they settle him into the middle of their huge California King sized bed. It takes up practically the whole room. Niall loves it immediately. 

“You already dreaming, babes?” Zayn asks as he lies down on top of the covers beside Niall, stroking his hair back. 

“No,” Niall says, grinning up at him. “Thought you had bunk beds. Before.” 

“He’s not making any sense,” Liam whispers. He settles in on the other side of Niall. 

“We’ll ask him when he wakes up,” Zayn whispers back. 

Niall’s just about to drift off when he remembers something very important. “Wait!” he tries to sit up, but Liam’s hand on his chest stops him. He stills a bit underneath the weight. He frowns back and forth between the two of them. “I didn’t get to kiss either of you yet.”

They both let out a huff of laughter and then Liam is leaning in to press his lips to Niall. Niall hums happily, makes a mental note to do this again when he wakes up but _more_. Liam’s lips are very soft, Niall would very much like to kiss them again. 

He breaks away from the kiss with Liam and Zayn’s hand comes under his chin, guiding him into a kiss. Zayn’s lips are a bit more chapped, but his tongue is hot and wet where it swipes across Niall’s lips. He pulls away before Niall can open up to him. 

“Get some sleep,” Zayn murmurs. “We’ll kiss you some more when you get up.” 

“Okay,” Niall agrees, happy now that he’s gotten to kiss all of them. Before he can fall asleep, Harry and Louis come tumbling into the room and crash down on the bed, Harry behind Zayn and Louis tangling himself up with Liam. 

It feels, it feels nice. Niall smiles to himself and falls asleep to the sound of their voices. 

 

**EPILOGUE**

Niall rolls his eyes when he hears the sound of a blowtorch against the ceiling panel. He groans out loud when he hears the sound of three other blowtorches getting turned on. He crosses his arms over his chest, careful not to rock himself too much on the wire, and looks up as his four idiot boyfriends lower themselves into the vault on ziplines nearly identical to his. 

“What the fuck, guys?” Niall demands when they’re level with him. He rips off his ski mask, it was cliche and stupid (and totally Harry’s idea) anyway. “This is _my_ mission.” 

“We know,” Liam says, pulling his own mask off. Niall thinks they’re all wrapped a bit too much around Harry’s finger, maybe. “We just like watching you work.” 

“You’re really hot when you work,” Harry says. “Not that you’re not hot all the time, but, like, you get all focused and professional.” 

“And that’s what does it for you?” Niall demands, looking around at all of them accusingly. Zayn and Liam both shrug, while Harry and Louis swing on their zip lines until they can fistbump. “Fuck off, all of you.” 

“Not gonna _ever_ fuck off,” Harry singsongs, somehow managing to flip upside down on his zip line and hang over the motion detecting lasers like he’s floating in a swimming pool. “You love us very much.” 

Niall wants to argue, but he’s kind of right. The past six months have been a fucking whirlwind of him being wined and dined and well-fucked. It’s been amazing. To be honest, it still feels as easy as before, just now he gets rimmed more often (and he has way more lovebites. Louis’ is possessive _as fuck_ , it’s ridiculous). It’s a win/win. 

It wasn’t super easy adjusting to life as the fifth member of a polyamorous relationship (it had involved a lot of Googling of words like “polyamorous”), but it wasn’t as hard as Niall thought it was going to be. There was still a lot of video games and a lot of beer, but instead of going back to his own room for the night, he’d get to crawl into a giant-ass bed and exchange sloppy blowjobs with his boyfriends before falling asleep in a tangle of limbs. It was more than Niall had ever let himself hope for. 

Stuff like this, though, Niall could do without. They show up on _every one_ of his jobs. It was fine when they were, like, courting him or whatever, but they've won him over now. There is no need for them to show up every time he's breaking into a museum. 

He especially doesn't need them showing up on this particular kind of job. The pink bottle in the center of the vault doesn't look like much, but it contains liquified yellow diamond. It's unbelievably rare and has a selling price so high that Niall will be set for life once he pulls off this job. 

The stakes are unbelievably high, though. This vault is so secretive, that no human person has ever set foot in it, the bottle being flown in by drones so that even the people charged with protecting it don't know what it looks like. Niall thinks that they think that will make it harder to steal. They're wrong, obviously. The room is sealed by a triple locked, six foot deep steel door with motion detector and lasers and a weight triggered floor alarm. The only real way in is through the roof and even that is nearly impossible. The building is egg shaped and completely smooth on the sides, making it impossible to scale. Niall had parachuted in from a helicopter. He has no fucking clue how the rest of these idiots got in. 

"Fine, whatever," Niall says. "Just please don't touch anything." 

Louis raises his eyebrows at Niall and then swings on his line to wrap his arm around Zayn. "Zayn's not an anything, he's an any _one_." 

Zayn and Liam roll their eyes in tandem (which happens a lot), but Niall can't help the giggle he lets out. 

"What happens if one of us steals it first?" Zayn asks from under Louis' arm. "Do we get the fame and fortune and all of that?" 

"If you touch this bottle, Malik, I swear to god I won't suck you off for a month," Niall threatens. 

"You love Zayn's dick way too much for that to be a real threat," Harry says, still hanging practically upside down next to the trip lasers. 

"We are the least professional thieves in the whole world," Liam says offhandedly. He swings and grabs at Louis, pulling him away from Zayn so that he can poke at Louis' sides. 

"Might be unprofessional, but we're extremely good at it," Harry chimes in. "Steal lots of hearts, don't we?" 

"Shut the fuck up." 

"Jesus, Styles, come on." 

"That was _terrible_." 

Harry pouts at them, flipping back over so he can cross his arms over his chest and have a proper strop about it. 

Niall sighs and swings over to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Best thieves in the world." 

There's a lot of beaming from Harry after that even while the other three roll their eyes. 

"Now, will you please let me steal my liquefied diamond so we can go home?" Niall asks of them. 

"I don't think so, _Neil_ ," Louis says. "I think I want that liquefied diamond. Got a buyer all lined up and everything." 

Niall narrows his eyes. “Get your own jobs,” he says. “Stop piggybacking off my success.” 

Louis outright snorts and Liam points a finger at Niall, saying, “Excuse me, Niall, whose armored truck heist last month bought the new sheets you wanted for the bedroom? That’s right, me and my success.” 

Niall rolls his eyes. “Yes, Liam, you’re very successful as well. Please just let me do my job.” 

“First one to grab the bottle is the first to get off tonight!” Harry yells and propels himself forward for the bottle. 

Zayn must have been watching him, though (Harry’s got a “I’m plotting things” face, Niall’s come to fear it a bit), because he intercepts Harry before Harry gets anywhere near the bottle. 

“Sorry, babes,” Zayn says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He presses a quick kiss to Harry’s neck before swinging back and elbowing Louis so he goes off-balance. 

“You came, like, twenty minutes ago,” Louis scoffs at Zayn. “You can’t be that eager yet.” 

“Yeah, but that was _you_ getting me off,” Zayn jokes. “I want Niall.” 

Niall is completely prepared for the tickle fight that is sure to follow Zayn’s words, which is why he’s so surprised that instead of seeking vengeance, Louis’ face lights the fuck up. (Louis’ lit up face is so much worse than Harry’s plotting face because Louis is fucking mad.) 

“First one to get the bottle gets Niall to themselves for the night!” Louis crows. 

A flush spreads quickly across Niall’s face and neck. They don’t often split up for the night; they’ll get off in groups of two or three (never four, not without permission), but they always come together when the sun comes down like some kind of unspoken rule. Apparently, Niall is good enough for some rule breaking. It makes him preen just a bit. 

“Come on, lads, you can do better than that,” Niall criticizes. He hangs back, watching as they tangle with each other in an effort to snatch the bottle. “Just think of the night we could have together!” 

The play fighting (with a little bit of real fighting mixed in, Niall thinks) goes on for a moment or so until Niall checks his watch and realizes they need to get the fuck out of there. He slips between them, unnoticed as they grab and pull at each other, and plucks the bottle from it’s pedestal. He hits the button on his zip line and retracts enough that he’s hanging above all of them. 

“Oi!” he shouts down at them. They look up and he waves the bottle. “Guess I’ll just have to have a night with myself then.” 

“Or,” Liam offers, “you could spend it with all of us.” 

“That’s how we spend every night,” Niall tells him, tone mock-offended that Liam would even suggest such a thing. 

“Yeah, but that’s how you like it,” Zayn says coming up beside him. 

Niall grins, but doesn’t say anything. They already know how he feels, he doesn’t need to give them any more fuel, honestly. 

“He knows it's true," Harry gloats, grinning into Niall's face. "He knows that we stole his heart." 

The chorus of complaints at Harry's joke is louder this time than before ("You can't just... _reuse_ jokes like that, Harry, you're better than that." "No, he isn't."), but Niall doesn't say anything. 

Mostly because it's true.

**Author's Note:**

> [ tumblr ](http://thankyoumerlin.tumblr.com)


End file.
